The Migration
by SCJen
Summary: One is a city elf with a chip on her shoulder. The other is a young noble with justice on his mind. Can the two ever see eye-to-eye long enough to defeat the Blight? A retelling of Dragon Age: Origins where more than one hero decides the fate of Ferelden. Helps to be familiar with the Female City Elf and Male Human Noble origins.
1. The Mockingbird Kills

_**A/N: **I'm going to assume that most have played the game, but if you haven't then I need to warn of very spoilerish info within. It follows the course of the game and I've only added my own little twist to it. It does help to be familiar with both the Female City Elf and Male Human Noble origins, though in the future I'll be trying to rewrite it so that it won't be necessary. Please Read and Review. Creative criticism is welcome, but please be civil. This is my first fan fic I've decided to openly post._

_**A/N**: (3/20/2010) Tiny update to correct some wording and spelling. I have some Beta Readers behind me so little updates will happen every now and again through all the chapters._

_**A/N:**(3/29/2010) Sentence phrasing and punctuation marks changed here and there. Much thanks, To_Paraphrase, for being an in depth Beta! ^_^_

**The Migration**

Part 1: The Mockingbird Kills

She was certain she was covered from head to toe in blood. She felt it in her hair, smelled it on the armor she "borrowed", and saw the thick red liquid drip off the end of her blade. Kallian did exactly as she said she would. Vaughan Kendall's body lay prone at her feet, his head had rolled off somewhere under a nearby table.

_No better place, _her mind crowed. _It's where all the other roaches and vermin would hide. Just perfect for His Lordship._

"Maker's Breath," she heard a voice say over labored lungs. "He... he's dead. We killed him... we killed them."

Kallian only half turned to look at him, almost in a daze. His armor wasn't as stained in red as hers. The bow in his hands had seen a bit of use. He looked pale, but no worse for wear. Two other bodies were on the floor between them. Blood spread from a wound in Lord Braden's neck. The arrow embedded there had killed him almost instantly. Lord Jonaley proved more resilient then that. His drunken state had allowed him to ignore a few blows, but no amount of ale in the world would have him live after Soris's third arrow buried deep into his side.

It amazed her a little. Before today neither of them had ever killed anyone. After those first two guards, however, it was somewhat frightening how easy it was to take a life.

The elf before her stepped forward past the bodies, his voice shook as he spoke, "T-tell me we did the right thing, cousin."

The look in his eye was pleading for some reassurance. Kallian said nothing and only looked over in the direction of the bed. They both knew that their respective cousin, Shianni, had rolled off the bed and onto the floor after Lord Vaughan had gotten off of her. It took her out of the line of sight of them all, but with him pulling up his trousers it didn't take much to guess what he had done. The soft sobbing they heard from just beyond the bed was enough to answer Soris's question.

"You take care of Shianni. She needs you," her cousin's voice was more solid, but there was an ashamed look in his eye. "I'll look for the others."

Soris left without another look and Kallian slid the blade into the sheath at her back numbly. She didn't blame him. Kallian was closer to Shianni then he. For anyone, let alone a man and kin, to face someone they were not quick enough to save...

She went around to the far side of the bed, her gut twisting into a knot as she saw the sight before her. Shianni, with her face and arms bruised and battered, shaking like a leaf, was trying desperately to cover her lower body with the rags that once were her skirt. Tear stains, both old and new, streaked her face. Whatever dignity Shianni was trying to reclaim stopped once she looked up at Kallian. Her face twisted and she sobbed.

"Home... take me home, please."

With that Kallian quickly yanked one of the sheets off the bed, knelt down, and started to wrap it about Shianni.

"It's alright," she said the words, but they felt like hollow consolation. "You're safe now."

Kallian wasn't able to look her in the eye. That shame and guilt Soris avoided hit her in the chest. If they'd only been quicker. If they'd never been taken in the first place, then...

"Th-they're gone?" Shianni grabbed her arm and her eyes were wide when Kallian managed to meet her gaze. "You killed them, y-yes?"

Her face was a picture of desperation. Shianni needed something, anything, for her to cling to. Kallian said the first thing that came to mind that summed it all up.

"Like dogs, Shianni."

Her cousin's hand gripped tighter to her arm. Kallian placed her own hand over Shianni's comfortingly.

"Good," though quivering, her voice came through with a determined grit. As if knowing the fact that some vengeance had been exacted then she'd be able to bare up with the pain. "Good."

"Kal," Soris's voice came from behind her. She looked to find both Soris and his bride-to-be watching on. Valora's hand was lightly covering her mouth in shock at the sight of Shianni. Before either could speak Kallian raised a hand. She didn't want them prying on Shianni's condition.

"Where's Nola?"

Valora's small voice spoke with an added quiver in it's tone, "Th-they killed Nola. They took Shianni first and put us in the hall storage room to... to wait our turn. When they came for her she resisted and... they killed her."

"We should get out of here. Now," Soris said glancing at the door that lead back to the hall. Kallian silently agreed with a nod and looked at Shianni once more.

"Can you walk?" she asked, partially rising to help encourage her.

Kallian watched the look in her eye. She felt a small sense of relief as the desperation in Shianni's gaze had started to lift. Shianni was going to eventually be alright. She'd need time to heal, but the elf lass with fiery red hair and just as fiery temperament would survive.

"Y-yes," Shianni gave a shaky nod. "I think so."

With that Kallian helped her up and Soris spoke the words before she could, "Good. Let's get out of here. I can't wait to leave this place."

They made their way out as fast as Shianni's' pace allowed them to. Valora clung to Soris's arm and would shut or shield her eyes away when they'd come upon more of the carnage the two of them had exacted. Kallian felt oddly detached. As if the woman that cut blades into these guards in anger and rage was a completely different person. In part it was true.

Once Vaughan was dead a good deal of that rage had left. It was still there and seemed to fester more with each slow step from Shianni. It was no longer a killing rage, though, and was quietly aimed at the arrogant human nobles.

_Nobles that will not let this go unpunished, _she surmised in her mind. _You just killed the Arl of Denerim's son. It doesn't matter what the reasons were. We're only elves, after all. Not worthy of equal justice._

Quietly she glanced at the others, _Shianni won't be touched. Neither will Valora. They don't carry the baring right now of being killers. Soris, however..._

Valora sniffled and Soris looked at her with concern, then rubbed her arm reassuringly. That was enough to set Kallian's mind on what she had to do. No matter the cost, she was going to make sure that no more of her kin was harmed.


	2. The Griffon Leads the Mockingbird

_**A/N:** 1/20/2010 - minor update to correct story consistency issue_

_**A/N:** (3/20/2010) Yet more spelling and grammar changes_

_**A/N:** (3/29/2010) Added punctuation marks and a small section rewritten to make more sence. (3/30/2010) One word change and for some reason I lost some of the centering and italics formating so I had to redo those. :/  
_

Part 2: The Griffon Leads the Mockingbird

Duncan walked along at a decent pace and chanced a glance behind him. The elf walked five or six paces behind him, her eyes fixed on where she was walking.

When he first ran into her in the Alienage, there was no mistaking who's daughter she happened to be. She had the same dark black hair, the same nose, and same grey-ish blue eyes. What was more telling was the way she handled herself. Kallian spoke in convincing and self assured tones without panic and without arrogance. Even in the face of what would have definitely been a death sentence, the elf woman calmly stepped forward and told the city guards that she was the one that did it and no one else. That was more than enough to convince Duncan that he was right in seeking her out. He wasn't fully certain if she had the proper grit to be a recruit until that very moment.

He felt no guilt this time. Regardless if things for her worked out or not, he at least had given her a fighting chance. Better that then the immediate execution the Arl's men would have given her.

They were miles from Denerim now, but Kallian remained silent. She carried a look that Duncan was not unfamiliar with. He'd give her that time to think and ponder. Her mind was no doubt still back with family, friends, home, and all that occurred. The emotions and thoughts she would have to straighten out for herself. If she didn't then that past could threaten to crush her in the face of what was to come.

Duncan looked forward again to the road, and for a long moment continued walking in silence. Then he heard her pace quicken and she caught up to him to walk by his side. She matched his pace and glanced at him.

"So...," she started. "Where we off ta?"

He quirked an eyebrow. Aside from suddenly sounding like a Denerim street rat, she spoke as if they were just going away for a short jaunt. She used an almost jovial tone. He let it slide for now. All dealt with deeper, darker emotions in their own way. It wasn't as if he didn't know someone else who was also prone to covering things up with lightness and humor.

"We're heading North to Highever," he explained. "Had time not been pressing, I would have taken you South to Ostagar to wait with the other recruits. As it is, I need to see if there are other potential Wardens within Teyrn Cousland's men first."

"Never been ta Highevah," Kallian mused, then shrugged with a light grin. "Never been outside of Denerim, really, so it all be new ta me. Got ya eye on anyone in particular? I mean, I know ya looked at me because of mother."

"As a matter of fact I do," he said. "Two, actually. There is a Ser Gilmore who has good potential to be a Warden. There is also Teyrn Cousland's younger son, but I'm not certain how the Teyrn himself will feel about him being recruited."

"If he's like most human nobles he'd rather keep his son fat, happy, and spoiled," she said. Her words were still spoken jovially, but there was an undercurrent of venom under the joking tone.

Duncan shot another glance at her. The venom shouldn't have been so surprising, he supposed, but somehow it was. Perhaps it was her previous cool and collected mannerisms in the direct face of danger that made him think her strong enough to not form such prejudgemental thoughts.

"Not all nobles are like Arl Urien's son, Kallian," he replied. "Just as not all elves are as feeble as many humans would believe."

A frown crested her lips and her eyebrows furrowed at the statement. She was definitely far form over her feelings.

Duncan continued, "And once someone becomes a Warden, what they were before doesn't matter anymore. Be they human, elf, dwarf, noble or castless, a Grey Warden is a Grey Warden. We have one purpose and one duty. Alliances do not come based on politics, but strictly on the duty of fighting the darkspawn. You would do well to remember this."

Kallian was silent once more, the frown still there, and she ran her hand through her hair as if irritated. Again, she seemed to rebound rather quickly and instead of a full frown her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"What's a 'Castless'?"

"Ah, well, being that you've never been out of Denerim, and thus never to Orzammar, I'm not surprised that you're unfamiliar with the Dwarven Caste society."

* * *

Duncan explained it to her. With every new bit of information, Kallian had a new question. She knew there was a whole world outside of Denerim and the Alienage. Despite the way she ended up leaving hearth and home, there was a certain excitement about traveling and seeing new places. The chance that she possibly could go to Orzammar or find the Dalish elves made her even more curious about it all.

Duncan was a wellspring of information. She had to wonder if there wasn't a corner of Ferelden that Duncan hadn't been to. She could never get him to give a solid opinion, though. He always seemed to rely on the statement, "You'll see for yourself."

It was irritating, but only mildly so. When she couldn't pull more out of Duncan, that irritation would set in and her subconscious habit of running her hand through her hair would kick in. Which, in turn, would mentally jar her when she felt less hair atop her head than there should have been. It only served to remind her just why it was cropped short and that, all things compared, her situation could be far worse.

Kallian's hair used to reach down to the middle of her shoulder blades. When Duncan conscripted her, she wasn't granted much time to get her affairs in order. She was only given enough time to wash up, gather her things, and say her goodbyes. When she tried to get the dried and caked blood out of her hair, she realized it was going to take too long. So, she had Valora cut her hair.

A good part of her was saddened by it. Her mother, who always wore her hair short, encouraged Kallian to grow hers long. Jokingly, her mother would say that she wanted to live vicariously through her daughter's hair since her own was always so difficult to manage. There were days where her mother would spend hours combing and putting Kallian's hair in different styles. She would use ribbons and clips of all sorts. Sometimes beads, sometimes wooden bands with small carvings upon them.

After her mother's death she continued to wear her hair in all sorts of ways. She had to leave behind many of the clips and baubles her mother collected over the years, but Kallian held on to one ribbon that was her mother's favorite to use. It was in her pack now and of little use to her, but she kept it as a memento. She was certain, though, that her mother would forgive her for making the ribbon currently useless.

The shorter hair would be easier to wash, easier to dry, and easier to manage while on the road. Kallian could imagine her mother saying that a bandit that would waylay your camp in the middle of the night wasn't going to wait for a lass to get her hair up in order to fight him better. A ponytail could be grabbed and a braided loop could get hooked on a branch. Long hair was almost as good as putting a noose around one's neck. So while part of Kallian felt saddened, the other part nodded at the practical and sensible move.

Kallian suddenly realized that Duncan was looking at her expectantly. She had stopped her cascade of questions to lose herself in thought and it apparently caught his attention. She shook her head of the collected cobwebs and thought of another question to ask. They had quite a few days yet to reach Highever and she was certain she could fill most of that time with all the questions she ever wanted to ask.

An impish part of her wondered how long it would be until Duncan would give his first exasperated sigh.


	3. Home of the Hawk

_**A/N:** I know that my time and travel frames are not going to match what's in the game. This was done on purpose so that certain things would make more sense._

_**A/N**: (3/5/2010) Changed Aedan's POV description of Kallian to match something in Part 8._

_**A/N:** (3/20/2010) Minor spelling and wording changes made. Thanks to my Betas. (4/3/2010) Punctuation and some sentence phrasing changed. Big love for to_paraphrase again. You're an awesome Beta!  
_

Part 3: Home of the Hawk

"This way, Warden," the guard motioned with a hand and lead them both through another pair of large double doors.

There were soldiers everywhere when they got close to Cousland Castle. Many were preparing or were already prepared to march South. Her ears easily picked up mutterings of "the Blight" and "darkspawn" from more than one group of soldiers. Some were haughty, others more worried. None, however, spoke anything of not going at all. These men would go to the fight, frightened or no.

The interior of the hall was warm. It was the first thing she noted. A high vaulted ceiling and grey stone walls caused voices to bounce and echo. Paintings hung on the walls of people and scenery that Kallian was unfamiliar with. At the far end of the hall a giant fire blazed in the equally giant hearth.

_There's probably enough wood in there right now to heat every hovel in the Alienage_, she thought bitterly.

She shoved the thought aside for later as they neared the men Duncan was here to speak to. Two of them looked Duncan's age or older. The third was a younger strapping man. Though he looked to be more around Kallian's age, he was at least a half a head taller then the others. Nearly as tall as Duncan. While the older men wore clothes of noble quality, the younger was garbed in armor, looking as if he were ready to head off to war.

"You didn't say there was going to be a Grey Warden here," one of them was saying when she paid attention to the talk. He was one of the older men. His nose was large and hooked and there was a narrowness of his eyes that made him look as if he was always squinting.

"Duncan had come by unannounced, Lord Howe," the other older man replied. "I was also unaware of his coming. Is this a problem?"

"No, I simply...," Lord Howe paused. To Kallian's ears he was searching for the right words. Whether it was to avoid insult or to cover something up, she couldn't surmise. "... feel a bit at a disadvantage. These things require a certain protocol so I am quite unprepared."

Duncan bowed his head slightly to him, "I apologize for dropping in so suddenly, but were circumstances different I certainly would have sent word ahead."

"It's quite alright. The King's call-to-arms has us all scrambling right now so I think breeches in protocol can be ignored for a time," the other man, whom Kallian could only guess was Teyrn Cousland, smiled and nodded. Then he looked right at her and she felt her back stiffen. "But it certainly doesn't give us the excuse to be rude. Who is this with you, Warden?"

Kallian suddenly found all their eyes on her as the Teyrn motioned to her.

"This is Kallian Tabris, your Grace," Duncan said as she stepped up slightly to stand more at his side instead of at his rear flank. She had sort of hoped that her presence would go unnoticed and that she would simply be assumed to be an elven servant of some sort. No such luck. "She is a recruit I found in Denerim. I'll be taking her and whatever recruits I happen to find here to Ostagar where they'll become full Wardens."

"Ah, I see," the Teyrn nodded again. "Then congratulations are in order."

_Not really seeing as how I didn't have much choice_, was what Kallian wanted to say. She inclined her head once, but before she could say anything at all, Lord Howe spoke again.

"Bit of a trek, isn't it?" He looked directly at Duncan. "Denerim to Highever and back to Ostagar again seems a bit of a journey."

"One that is necessary, Arl Howe," Duncan clasped his hands behind his back. "Finding Grey Warden recruits isn't as simple as gathering men off of farms into a town square and having them conscripted into an army. There are particular qualities we seek in each potential individual. If they do not have them then we do not conscript them."

"What does one look for in a recruit?" This time it was the younger man that spoke. His tone was somewhat eager, but he covered it well with a veil of curiosity.

"Various things," Duncan answered in the same exact 'mentor' tone she had heard quite a bit of over the last week and a half. "Simply being the strongest fighter or the best with a bow is no guarantee of recruitment. Each Warden has their own particular talents and all of them are valuable when battling the Darkspawn."

"Do you think you'll find someone with those talents here?" This time the eager tone was more pronounced.

"Eh, forgive his questioning, Duncan," the Teyrn said. "This is my younger son, Aedan. He'll be minding the castle while we're away."

Kallian felt the corner of her lip turn down despite the fact that she was trying not to let any of her emotions show. The last thing she wanted right now was to be anywhere near the son of a noble lord, let alone an Arl and a Teyrn of the land. Unfortunately, this is where Duncan had to be and it was only because of it that she'd bare up with the company. She decided to take a more solid look at him. He was one of the two Duncan had mentioned as being a potential recruit, after all.

He had dark brown hair that was neatly trimmed short and well combed. His face was clean shaven and he was perhaps not as young as she first guessed. Not so much older then Kallian, but older by a few winters, at least. He stood erect with a proper posture making his already tall height seem taller. She thought to herself that good looks were apparently a trait of the Cousland line as both father and son were handsome of face.

_But Vaughan wasn't ugly in looks either_, Kallian's mind cut in. _And you saw what sort of sodding bastard he turned out to be. Though I think if it came to a fight, this Noble's son wouldn't be as easy to kill._

Along with the posture and well cared for armor was a set of decent muscles. He had a deep chest, broad shoulders, and she noticed a tan quality to his skin. Vaughan was paler and probably didn't get outside much. Aedan looked more a soldier then he did a noble. There was also something about his eyes.

She had known Vaughan to be nothing more then a coward in bully's clothing. He had come to the Alienage, of all places, to force his will on those "weaker" then he. When confronted by someone stronger, he squirmed and even tried to bribe his way out of it. She had a feeling that would happen as Vaughan's eyes were that of a rat's. Cold, beady, prone to darting about, and shined when a treat was in his grubby paws.

Aedan's were far brighter, despite the dark blue, and more solid. There was no cowardice in this one that she could see. His eyes didn't dart away from the person he was speaking to. He had will and possibly the skills to back up that will.

Kallian's thoughts were cut off as the elder Cousland had stepped in between Duncan and his son. Again, she had been ignoring the conversation.

"I do not have so many children that I can send them all off to war. I will not have him be recruited," he paused and suddenly looked very tense. "Unless... you look to invoke the Right of Conscription?"

Duncan was a picture of calm. In fact, the Teyrn's words undoubtedly helped ease his mind as it answered his question on how the Teyrn would feel on the matter.

Duncan raised his hands in a brief gesture of surrender, "You need not worry about that. I've need of recruits, but I won't force that sort of situation on you. I am more then content to see if there are other potential recruits among your men."

The relief on Teyrn Cousland's face was quite evident. It overshadowed the light disappointed look his son carried behind him.

"Well that, at least, is good to know," he turned to look at Aedan. "The Warden, Arl Howe, and myself have some things to discuss, Pup. In the meantime help set up sleeping arrangements for both Duncan and his recruit."

Kallian noted that Duncan was suddenly looking at her. All at once she felt this small amount of dread because some thought was obviously going through his mind. She had a very strong hunch what is was, but before she could even protest Duncan was speaking.

"Actually, your Grace, if it's not any trouble perhaps your son could show Kallian about the castle and then to where she'll rest," he conveniently kept his gaze away from her to avoid any 'looks' she was trying to give. "The trip was long and there is no need for her to stand about and hear our talk."

"No trouble at all," what tension the Teyrn had expressed only seconds before had completely fled and he gave a smile. "Son, if you would be so kind to be host and escort for the young lady?"

"Of course, Father," Aedan replied and looked at Kallian. For some reason she had the impression that he wasn't really looking at her. His eyes still seemed clouded in disappointment. Then all at once, the look faded and he gave something of a smirk at his father. He spoke in a sarcastic, but very light tone. "Don't stretch my abilities or anything."

The Teyrn laughed a bit, "Don't worry, Pup. You'll have more then enough to occupy and test you once you're fully in charge. Go on now, and if you see Fergus tell him we need to speak."

"Yes, Father," with that Aedan came around closer to Kallian. He bowed courteously at the waist and motioned to a door with his hand. "This way, please."

Inside, Kallian was seething. She glared one more time at the back of an unmoved Duncan. She spared Aedan no glance and tried not to stalk off towards the door.

* * *

Aedan kept looking sideways at the Grey Warden recruit as they took a walk about the castle. He hadn't paid close attention before due to being a bit blinded by an actual Grey Warden standing before him. He and Fergus were abroad in Cousland lands the last time the Grey Warden leader had come by Highever, and they both missed the tourney held in his honor.

Grey Wardens, a living figure of legends. What child didn't play at pretending to ride on a griffon's back, swooping down to save the village from the evil Darkspawn? He recalled the time that Fergus nearly broke his leg once as the two of them decided that the corral fence was a prefect structure to "swoop" down atop from. Nan nearly grew a third eye in her furry and forbid them from ever playing "Grey Warden" again. Not that they had listened.

So Aedan was a little bit in awe of Duncan. He felt almost a child again, wanting to ask all he could about what it was like to be a Warden. Then to have him say that if given a choice he would have picked Aedan as a recruit almost felt surreal. He was disappointed that his father wouldn't allow it, but it was passing quickly.

As a Cousland, he knew where his familial duty lay. His nephew Oren was far too young to take over as Cousland heir just yet and it would be up to himself and his mother to mind the castle and lands should the worst occur.

Aedan tore his mind away from the horrid thought of losing both his father and brother in the battles to come. Instead he turned his attention to the elven woman.

She had an attractive face, he had to give her that. However, her short cropped black hair was tousled and a little unkempt from traveling. Any lady of court would have gasped at its condition, but the hair only emphasized her sharp chin line and high angled elven ears. It gave her something of a severe look, and one without the ability to see passed the sloppiness might have labeled her as harsh looking. The ill fitted leather armor didn't help any. The top of her head only came up to his shoulder, and though most of her form was hid he could see she was typically "elven thin" and had that paleness of skin most of her kind carried. He tried to imagine what she might look after a bath, a brush, and exchanged the leathers for a dress. Aedan liked what his mind was seeing.

He cursed his luck a brief moment. If he hadn't already made plans with Lady Landra's handmaiden for the night he would have definitely made aims for this one. Then get to brag about it to his brother after.

There was still some hope, though. If the Warden had plans to stay a day or two longer then Lady Landra, then he could be free to accept new company.

_Maker's Breath_, he mused. _If mother ever caught wind... she'd probably fetch Nan to get me to do the coldest and dreariest work possible just to keep me reigned in. But how could I pass up this opportunity?_

"So the Warden said you were from Denerim?" he began as they paused on one of the outer castle battlements. She had seemed rather non-responsive to him showing her about, only nodding her head from time to time in acknowledgment of his words when he pointed something out. He figured her to maybe be the shy quiet type as she tended to keep her eyes averted away from him. "Was there two years ago for a tournament held in honor of the Queen's birthday. I take it not much has really changed since then?"

Her face was turned away and she didn't say anything for some seconds, "Still a city. Still big."

And that was all he got.

_Alright, she's shy and not one for many words._

"Well, being from the city I guess you come from the Alienage there," Aedan continued to speak despite the niggling thought in the back of his mind that was telling him to stop. "We have one here in Highever as well. We Couslands never turn away an elf that wishes to live here."

She then gave an unmistakable snort and her voice dripped with sarcasm, "Well, aren't you the enlightened one."

"P... Pardon?" Aedan blinked in surprise.

The Warden recruit then heaved a long and exasperated sigh. She turned to look squarely at him, her eyes tinged with dislike.

"Look, just show me where ya elven servants sleep and I'll pull me up a spot on the floor with them," she crossed her arms and looked at him from head to toe, almost in disgust. "Then ya can be off and do whatever it be ya human nobles do."

It took Aedan a full set of seconds for everything to register. Her intonation, her words, her posture, everything. Aedan very quickly decided that he now didn't care for her company, but was tempted to call a duel on her and see if that sword strapped to her back was just for show.

"That would not be... prudent," his voice was under control and though he kept a ridged smile, there was a definite edge in his tone. "It would be downright rude and ... insulting... to have a Grey Warden, even a recruit, set up to sleep with the servants."

"Wouldn't be the first time me had ta suffer an insult," she gave a smug sneer. "Not the worst me had either. Besides, long as your servants quarters be better then a cattle corral then me won't be insulted in the least." Her sneer got a little wider, "Unless ya be sayin' ya servants stay in squalor only fit for animals."

His eyebrows furrowed and the pseudo-smile disappeared. Aedan drew himself up to his full height and squared his shoulders to look downwards at her as he felt the challenge in her words. He wanted to rise up in anger at her cocky tone. Another part of him, though, wondered just what insult happened exactly to give her this obvious chip on her shoulder.

Aedan knew that he never ran into this woman before because he certainly would have remembered it. He definitely would have remembered quarreling with one such as she, so whatever hatred she bore wasn't directed at himself so much as it was his noble heritage. Even so, Aedan felt more insult at the implication that he and his family were exactly the same as whatever her interpretation of a human noble was.

Of which, he had no doubt, wasn't a flattering one.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch and the sneer slowly slipped away. Despite his height advantage she didn't back away and remained glaring at him the whole time. Whether it was confidence, false courage, or just sheer bloody minded stupidity that prevented her from backing down, he couldn't tell. In any case, Aedan decided not to rise to the bait. He clenched his fist as he forced his emotions to calm.

"Whatever your assumptions happen to be know that in this castle we treat our servants with more respect then you think," try as he might he couldn't hide the indignation in his voice. "I dare you to ask any servant if they think we treat them like animals and _then _pass your judgment on us. Not before."

He saw her eye twitch just slightly and after a few more seconds she frowned as if she were about to spit and looked away with a "tsk". If Aedan wasn't mistaken she looked disappointed. Her words were almost a muttered growl.

"Only way me can question them be to talk to them when they be not bowin' and scrapin' so do us both a favor, _m'lard_," she only gave him a cursory glance, her arms still crossed. "Take me to them to rest, get me out of ya hair, then we can spend the rest of the time avoidin' one another."

He stared at her hard for another good score of seconds, fighting back another spike of anger.

"As the _Lady_ wishes," spoke the words through clenched teeth. "This way... if you will."

He would keep his words civil, but he was going to make it known to this Kallian Tabris that she's definitely not earned a friend in him. As he purposefully brushed by her, he heard her utter.

"Bout bloody time."

Aedan couldn't stop the words from tumbling out, "Don't push it, elf."

He didn't dare look back at her and kept walking. There was no way he wanted to see her smug self-satisfied look. Even as he was kicking himself for letting his anger overcome his senses he heard her mumble.

"Typical."


	4. Mockingbird Raids the Hawk Nest

_**A/N**__: Oralyn is an Original Character, so no need to try and look her up anywhere._

_**A/N:** (3/20/2010) More spelling and grammar corrections made._

_**A/N:** (4/19/2010) Yet more minor grammar and punctuation corrections made. Beta love!  
_

* * *

Part 4: Mockingbird Raids the Hawk Nest

"Oralyn, would you be so kind as to show the Warden recruit here to the servant's quarters? She'll be staying there."

Oralyn, with a freshly folded sheet in hand, blinked up at the youngest Cousland son in momentary confusion. She looked at him, then at Kallian, then at him again.

"Milord?"

The single word carried with it the question and perplexity of her thoughts.

"Was it not clear enough?" his voice carried a level of agitation that caused the elven servant before him to go a little wide eyed. "It is the Lady's wish to stay in the servant's quarters and it will be so."

Kallian grinned to herself. His tone was like music to her ears. She got to him and she savored every word spoken through gritted teeth.

"B… but, milord, to put a guest in-"

"Do not oppose me on this," the words came sharper and the elf servant seemed to flinch. "This will be done."

Kallian saw her tense and grip a little to the sheet in her hands. She waited in anticipation for Aedan to lash out and strike her for not obeying right away. The hit never came. Instead, his shoulders slumped very slightly and he gave a small sigh.

"Oralyn… please. Do this for me?" his tone was much softer and kind.

Kallian frowned mildly and it deepened further as Oralyn went from shrinking violet to blushing red in an instant. She noted then that Oralyn was cute in face and ample of bosom with a petite little body. Just the sort to have any lordling go drooling after.

Oralyn gave a small curtsy, "Yes, milord. But if Nan or the Teyrna find out…"

"If they do, send them my way. Tell them I insisted," he gave a partial glare out of the corner of his eye in Kallian's direction for a second. "I'll take their heated words instead."

Oralyn gave a brightening thankful smile at him, then looked at her and motioned with a hand, "Then follow me, please."

Kallian turned her head to say one last thing to Aedan, but was stopped as he turned sharply, clicked his heels together and gave a short bow, "I take my leave of you, _Lady_."

He glared at her the whole time and she was certain he kept glowering even as he turned and walked away quickly. She watched his back as he strode off until he turned a corner and went out of sight.

"Milady?" Oralyn spoke again. When Kallian glanced at her she motioned once more with a hand.

_So much for getting one last biting jibe in, _she thought as she started to follow the elven servant. _Wanted to get him angry enough to try something. Maybe not the best way to repay Duncan by putting him out with another noble's death, but he irked me. "Never turn away an elf", indeed._

In the back of Kallian's mind, however, there was some doubt that she'd be able to do it. Not for a lack of trying, of course, but for the potential fighting skill he might be able to exhibit.

Oralyn did make good and showed Kallian to the servant's quarters. She didn't need to find a spot on the floor as they had one bed unoccupied. As she settled in she couldn't help but note that as far as elven servant's quarters went the large room was rather decent.

The room had a small hearth with a nice fire going. The furnishings of tables, chairs, and beds were well worn, but very serviceable. The sheets, while possessing some moth eaten holes, were not so riddled with them that they were beyond usefulness. Kallian hated to admit it, but the warm lived-in quarters felt downright homey. Better then any place in the Denerim Alienage, that was certain.

Oralyn finished putting away the sheet she had in her hands and smiled at Kallian. The smile was polite, but she could tell there was a certain wariness in her eyes.

"Would you like me to let you know when dinner will be served? And would you like a change of clothes to attend dinner in?" she motioned at Kallian and the armor she wore.

Kallian started to remove some of her gear to give herself a second to think, then said, "No… to both. Just toss me a bit of whatever you folks will be having. Long as it's not taking it out of the mouth of a servant, that is."

Oralyn stuttered a moment, "B-b-but, milady… th-that would be—"

"Insulting?" she quirked a grin and shook her head. "Wouldn't be insulted in the least. Matter of fact, it would still be the best meal I've had in ages."

"But they'll be expecting you at dinner," Oralyn seemed to drop any pretenses of courtesy. "If I tell Nan or the Teyrna that a guest of the house is being served a servant's meal I'll get punished for it!"

Kallian grunted, it was as much as she expected, "I take it this Nan of yours is a head servant of some kind? Someone's grandmother?"

"She's the head cook and is in charge of overseeing that we servants keep the castle tidy," Oralyn looked over her shoulder once, probably to check and see if the Maker saw fit to have this Nan woman walk up right at that moment. "She's a disciplined woman and can be a right terror when things go wrong, but she keeps things running smoothly here for the Teyrna. She also helped raise the Teyrn's sons, so..."

Kallian ran a hand through her hair and gave a short sigh, "Look, just tell them my trip was long and that I was too exhausted to make dinner. I _am _going to take a short nap here so you'll be telling some truth. Just nudge me awake when the food is here. I'll eat, then likely sack out again. Is that alright?"

Oralyn fidgeted a moment, her eyebrows furrowed in worry, "I… I suppose so. As milady wishes."

"Please, it's Kallian," she sat on the bed to remove her boots. "Consider me just visiting kin."

The elven servant chewed on her lip a moment, then smiled a bit kinder and nodded, "Alright then… Kallian… would you at least like a change of clothes to sleep in? Can't be comfortable sleeping in those leathers."

Kallian gave her a genuine smile in return, "Now _that_ I wouldn't mind at all."

* * *

She woke to the sounds of a sleeping castle. In fact, it was probably because things were so quiet that she snapped awake. Kallian sat up, feeling disoriented until the previous day came back to memory. Glancing around she saw the other beds had figures in them in deep sleep. The fire was down to just a flew flickering embers, a sign that it had not been stirred or renewed in long hours.

_Andraste's Burning Britches,_ her mind grumbled as she rubbed at an eye. _I was more exhausted then I thought. I didn't hear a single one of these folks come in. Wonder why Oralyn didn't wake me for dinner… hungry enough to eat a whole oxen raw right now._

She roused herself and got her boots back on. The simple shirt and loose pants Oralyn gave her were warm enough so she simply slipped out the door silently before anyone could wake.

The cold night air hit her face and hands, waking her fully. Above, a half crescent moon peeked through some slow moving clouds. Somewhere beyond the castle walls an owl hooted. The corridors were dimly lit by hanging oil lamps placed intermittently along the way. It was just bright enough to see, but dark enough for Kallian's liking. Perfect conditions for getting around unseen.

_Food_, her mind and stomach insisted. _Food, then explore. See the corners instead of the impressive bits your noble host wanted to show off. Stuff is always in corners._

She tried to recall which way the kitchen was and by luck had turned the right direction. It took peeking into a couple of doors and hiding around a corner from a yawning guard on patrol, but she eventually found it. She left the door open just a crack as a single low burning oil lamp was all that was lit and there were no other lights within. With that Kallian went to task.

For taking what amounted to a midnight snack, Kallian felt no guilt at all. With the stores of food she spied, she doubted the bit of bread, thin wedge of cheese, and single red apple was going to be missed. Petty as it was, she was taking a tiny stab at her hosts and the overall situation.

_Duncan couldn't leave well enough alone_, she frowned in thought as she continued to root about for food. _Setting me up to have to try and "be nice" to a noble's son. If he just let me play the unassuming mouse I could have listened, learned, and get set up proper in a guest room after._

It wasn't as if Kallian didn't understand what Duncan was trying to do. Right now, however, she was sick of human nobles and their penchant for seeing elves as lesser beings. Property and pests instead of people. She didn't realize just how sick she was of it until being away from Denerim.

At home, she had to mind herself as much as possible or risk bringing those close to her in danger. Bump into a passing Bann by accident, and next thing you know they're taking your father away for a month to work at his estate as "payment" for the injury. Slap a nobleman for touching you where they shouldn't, and they send house guards to take you away . . . then slay your mother for getting in the way. Kill an Arl's son and risk having the whole Alienage burned down. And all that because you weren't human.

With no friends or family nearby Kallian felt liberated from restraining any hatred she felt. All those repressed years living under the thumb of people who thought they were better for their birthright. She knew it was threatening to spill forth from her like a river of poison.

Suddenly, all thoughts left her and she froze. Kallian had been squatting, the apple clenched in her teeth, as she dug into a wicker basket on the ground to check its contents. A low rumbling growl from her left stopped her. Slowly she turned her head, instinctually figuring that any sudden movements would be the death of her. Kallian's eyes widened and she was certain the bottom of her stomach fell out.

It was big. Horribly big. It stood there, ears flat back, fanged teeth bared, audibly growling it's displeasure. In the light of the low turned lamp it's reddish eyes flickered between red and black, making it look demonic. It's massive forepaw stepped closer one step, claws lightly scraping the stone floor. Kallian was glad, then, that she didn't have anything in her stomach as she was sure her bowels would have loosened themselves by now.

_My fate in life... was to become a pile of dog shite_, came the numb thought, but she quickly shook herself of it. _Wait, wait! No. Think! That's definitely a Mabari Warhound. It's too big to be anything else... Maker, is it big!_

It took another slow threatening step forward. She fought the impulse to scream and run.

_Don't panic! Think! Mabari are smart, right? They can understand words, right? Maybe... maybe you can talk it out of biting your face clean off?_

She moved very slowly to remove the apple from her mouth. The massive dog growled louder.

"H... hello," she squeaked, swallowing to try and sooth her dry mouth. "Uh... I... I was just... getting something to eat."

Kallian held up the apple in a lightly shaking hand, "See?"

_This is stupid! You're trying to talk to a __**dog**__, for Maker's sake! You're not going to be able to-_

Her thoughts stopped as the Warhound ceased growling and ceased baring its teeth. Its ears swiveled around to point in her direction. Its body, however, remained in the lightly crouched position. It was still capable of springing any second.

_Talk fast!_

"I was hungry. Very hungry," she spoke truthfully, figuring honesty to be the best policy. "I haven't eaten anything since I got here this morning. Had nothing but jerky since I left home."

The dog stood up straighter. It was still eyeballing her intently, perhaps even judgingly. Kallian felt the noose loosen about her neck, but knew her head was still in the loop. She eased back and went from squatting to sitting. The dog didn't react to it.

"Not used to road travel. Had a hard time eating, harder time sleeping," she blinked at her own words. "Guess that's why I slept so hard. Clean bed, warm room. No wonder I slept right through dinner."

She noted that the Mabari Warhound was now sitting, one of it's ears still perked in her direction, the other flopping to the side.

_Cannot believe this is actually working! I heard they were intelligent, but..._

"So, I hope you understand. I'm starving," she held up the apple again. "If you like, we can share if you're hungry, too."

_Because I'd rather not have you eat me,_ was what she thought, but decided to keep that bit to herself.

There were long tense seconds where it remained in the same position. Uncertainty sank in as she waited for some reaction. Suddenly, the dog stood up and her heart leapt into her throat as it trotted towards her. It then trotted right behind her. Kallian's head snapped around to watch where it went.

It walked along several feet, and then turned to face the wall. She started slightly as it raised up on its hind legs, planted it's forepaws on the wall, and looked intently upwards. The dog gave sort of a huffing "chuff" sound, looked at her, and then looked up intently again. She craned her head to look up at the wall.

"Are those sausages?" She uttered as she saw what the hound was looking intently at.

The sausages were up on a hook high upon the wall. It was the sort of hook normally reserved for drying out herbs, but it seemed in this kitchen it had other uses. Each sausage was about the length of her hand and neatly bundled in a bunch, tied securely together with twine. It was too high up for a normal person to reach let alone a Mabari Warhound. She suspected that even with a running jump the result would mean a broken wall hook and a great clattering of noise upon landing for the dog.

Kallian got up on her feet and walked over, "You want to share a couple of those?"

It looked at her, panted, and wagged its stubby tail. She quirked a small smile as she realized that not only was she about to bribe a dog, but she also was going to remain alive.

"Those do look rather good," she started looking around the room. "There should be a retrieval hook- ah. Right there."

She spied the long wooden pole with an upturned hook in a corner. Placing what was in her arms on a table, she got the pole, and came back to be pleasantly surprised that the dog had gotten out of the way. Using the hook she got the sausages down and snapped off one of the links. The dog was so big that she didn't need to stoop down and she held one out to it.

_"Him", not "it"_, she realized. She saw the evidence of that when he raised himself up on the wall to point out the sausages.

In a slow and deliberate manner, he opened his maw wide and didn't have it just envelope the sausage but her entire hand. Eyes instantly wide, she then thought that, yes, she was going to remain alive, but without a hand. The thought stayed until she realized that he wasn't putting that much pressure on it. Inside his mouth she let the sausage go. Just as deliberately as he had enveloped her hand, he slowly backed away to let her hand go. The canines that should have cut and shredded only lightly raked her skin.

_Teeth! Teeth, sharp teeth! He's letting me know they are sharp! Ooooh, Maker, thank you for making them smart and giving me a way out of this!_

He happily chewed away on the meat very audibly. After her panic subsided she felt that her hand was covered in dog slobber. Her face blanching she wiped it on her pant leg. By the time her hand was dry again, he was giving that muted bark again. A "chuff" sound followed by the dog's muzzle pointed intently at the bundle.

"Another one? Well, alright," she went about snapping another link off. "But this will have to be it."

He gave a full begging whine.

"Hey, if we take too many they're going to notice," Kallian handed the next sausage over to him which the dog took, not enveloping her hand this time. "Does no good for either of us to leave blatant evidence now, does it?"

He still whined, even through the chewing, but seemed alright with things. Snapping off a couple more for herself she went about putting the slightly lighter bundle of sausage back on its hook and the pole back in the corner. Coming back she saw with dismay that he was still chewing away and one of her sausages was gone.

"Oy! Sharing means I get some too, ya kn-"

Her ears picked up the shuffling of armored feet on cobble stone. Cursing inwardly she looked around for a place to hide. Only having time to duck behind some wheat sacks next to the table, she curled herself into as tight a form as possible, her head on bended knees.

"Could have sworn I heard a voice..."

"Sure it just weren't a cat mewlin'?"

"I know the soddin' difference between a cat and a-... wait. Kitchen door shouldn't be open..."

Kallian gritted her teeth as the guard's voices got closer, and then she stiffened as the dog came close and started sniffing at her. Wide eyed, she shook her head and tried to motion the dog away. Bravely - or perhaps foolishly - she put her hand atop his muzzle to try and push him away. It had a full opposite effect and he pushed his head fully into her hand to be petted and he started licking her face. Mentally she pleaded for him to go away, then froze when she heard the kitchen door creak open. The room brightened as the guard brought in whatever source of light they had.

"Who goes there?" one of them said forcefully. "Show yourself!"

For a second she thought to go ahead, resign herself to her fate, and stand up. That was until the dog trotted off to the far side of the table away from Kallian. He got himself into full view of the guards and gave a solid bark.

"Oh no," one of the two guards said, sounding exasperated. "Not milord's Warhound _again_."

"I swear," the other huffed a sigh. "It's the fourth time this month he's made it in here. The head cook is not going to like this one bit."

"Well who says we have to tell her? Doesn't look like he's really touched anything or made any sort of mess."

The guard grunted, "You have a point. I'd rather not have to stand there and get shouted at. We'll get forced to listen to her reasons why we should add a lock and a full cross bar to the door. Like the kitchen is the soddin' treasury or somethin'."

"Tell me about it. Well, come on, Angus. I have some jerky bits in my footlocker I can bribe you with, but only if you leave the kitchen."

The dog gave a happy sounding bark. He turned his head to look right at Kallian for a brief second. For some reason Kallian go the sense that sometime in the near future she was going to be giving up an entire meal to him for this. The look passed and he trotted off towards the door.

"That was easier then usual..."

"I still want to know how in the world he works knobs and latches on doors," one of them said just before she heard them close the door behind them.

Kallian let the breath she was holding out with a relieved sigh.

_Close. Way too close_, she got up into a crouch and peeked around just to make sure things were clear, then wiped her face on her sleeve. _Now I owe a dog, of all things, for helping me get out of it. And my face smells like sausage! The Maker is completely playing with me._

Seeing it was safe she quickly gathered the food, deciding that finding a quiet spot to eat would be best. Then she could poke around and see what sort of little secrets the castle might hold. With a fuller belly she wouldn't be so distracted and have no guards, dogs or otherwise, sneak up on her. The excitement of nearly being caught now over, a new tingle of excitement filled her.

_A treasury, eh?_

She couldn't stop herself from grinning.


	5. Flying Lessons

_**A/N**: Yes, I know that in the game the attack happens on the same day Fergus leaves, but as stated before I'm changing times and distances to make some sense. Also making room for more story, so I hope you all can bare with. Thanks for the encouraging words so far._

_**A/N:** (3/20/2010) Continued changes made to spelling and grammar. Thanks to my betas!_

_**A/N:** (4/24/2010) Punctuation and more grammar fixes made._

_**A/N:** (5/24/2010) Changed some minor things to meet up with my head-cannon naming conventions.  
_

* * *

Part 5: Flying Lessons

A cascade of giggles came from up the hall. Eleanor Cousland paused in her idle chat with Lady Landra and her daughter-in-law, Oriana. All three of them seated about the stone table in the atrium turned their heads to see Aedan Cousland stride down the hall with a six-year-old boy happily draped over his shoulder.

Her grandson, Oren, was no trouble for her son to carry. His right arm held the boy securely even with the giggling and squirming. She felt a small sense of pride over how both he and his brother Fergus had turned out. They were both healthy and strong men...

_Yes, **men**_, she reminded herself. _They had stopped being boys for a long while now, despite what your motherly instincts may want to tell you._

Healthy and strong men of good natures. Worthy of carrying on the Cousland name and titles. Between the two they would continue to guide and protect the people as is their right. But therein was part of the problem. Both sons were just as worthy as the other to be the next Teyrn of Highever.

She and Bryce hadn't discussed seriously about which son it would eventually be. They thought that they had a few years yet to talk it over, until the royal courier arrived with the call for aid and the order to rally at Ostagar to fight the darkspawn uprising. They had talked, sometimes argued, about who would be sent and who would stay behind. She hated the thought of any of them going, but knew they had their duty to the king to perform. In the end she agreed that only one son would stay behind and that son would eventually be the new Teyrn.

They had yet to tell either Aedan or Fergus of this choice. Not for any worry of either son crying foul. The brothers loved one another as brothers should. They were friends, comrades-in-arms, and watched one another's backs in time of need. Neither one took to jealousy over the other. When Oren was born, Aedan was just as overjoyed for Fergus as Fergus was for the birth of his son. No, jealousy had nothing to do with it.

It was the darkspawn.

If, by Maker's choice, the threat were to overrun all of Fereldan then she and Bryce's decision would be moot. Should they be defeated, but at the very high cost of both Fergus and Bryce's lives then the title would fall to Aedan. If by happy luck both her husband and son were to survive and the darkspawn defeated, then they could address both sons on the matter. Until all fates were decided they would settle for just telling Aedan he would be in charge of the castle for now and nothing else.

Eleanor smiled as Aedan walked closer, hefting Oren as if he were a heavy sack. She noted that unlike yesterday he wore comfortable clothing. A small matter of worry as they knew Aedan was expecting to go with Fergus to the battle and had to be told that morning it wouldn't be so. Now he wore clothes of an understated look. He was never one for elaborate embroidery or overly fancy patterns, so she wasn't surprised by the plainer look he chose. They were at least tailored for him - Eleanor had insisted on that much - and he cut a good figure in the simple brown breeches, vest, and blue shirt. The only signs he belonged to nobility were the quality boots and the pair of leather vambraces engraved with the Cousland heraldry.

"Good day, Mother, Oriana, Lady Landra," he grinned. "Would any of you know just where I should drop off this giggling sack of potatoes? It's awfully heavy, you see, and it's not the season for planting them just yet."

"My son is a sack of potatoes?" Oriana said, sounding more confused then amused.

"_Giggling_ sack of potatoes," Aedan emphasized. "In fact this particular variety has a specific name. Doesn't it?"

Aedan looked at his nephew and, as if signaled, Oren thrust his fists forward and announced, "I am a sack of Orentatoes!"

"Oren . . . tatoes?" Oriana shook her head, eyeballing them both.

"Yes," Aedan said then saw Oriana's flat exasperated look and raised a hand briefly. "Now don't look at me. Oren came up with it himself."

"When they pull up the tatoes from the ground they'll be giggling," Oren stated as if it was fact. "And then aaaaaaaall the farmers will laugh, too! . . . Uncle, you think maybe when you plant me I should make a funny face? That way all the potatoes will look like it, too?"

"What sort of face?"

"Like this!" He stuck out his tongue, pushed the tip of his nose up with a finger, and crossed his eyes.

Lady Landra put a fist up to her mouth, trying her best not to look too unseemly, but the snicker and barely hidden grin gave her away. Eleanor herself pursed her lips together, but her grandson's ridiculous face made it difficult to keep composure. Oriana sat there looking dumbfounded and shook her head again. Aedan didn't hold back his laugh.

"I swear, between you and Fergus...," Oriana let the sentence trail off, then she looked at Eleanor. "Do Cousland women always have to put up with these sort of shenanigans?"

"Yes, my dear, we do," Eleanor replied, then quickly added. "And, no, you never do get used to it."

"I'm so overjoyed," she said with a sigh and looked back up at her son. "Now, get down off of your Uncle's shoulder. I'm certain he has some things to see to today."

Oriana gave an unspoken look at Aeden, who seemed to understand and helped the child off his shoulder, while still wearing a grin.

"But, Mother, Uncle promised me he'd teach me to use a sword today," even as Oren said it, he got over to his mother's lap and climbed up into it.

"Oh, he did, did he?" Oriana, wrapping an arm about her son in the way mother's do, looked at her brother-in-law again. She kept the look, then sighed and sounded a little worried, "I still say he's far too young for it, yet."

"Nonsense," Aedan said, standing up straight and smoothing out his shirt a bit. "Fergus and I were just about Oren's age when father started teaching us."

"I believe you started even younger, Aedan," Eleanor added.

Her son gave a mild grin and spoke in a joking tone, "Only so that Fergus could have someone to beat up on."

"This isn't giving me much confidence, you know," Oriana cast a slightly baleful look at Aedan.

He sighed and smiled reassuringly, "Look, I'm only going to teach him two things. How to hold a sword properly and that a sword is not a toy. The rest will be up to Fergus when he gets back."

There was a very brief silence where the word "when" was replaced by "if" in Eleanor's mind. She didn't doubt that the same happened for both Oriana and Aedan. Oren's voice broke that silence.

"Pleeeeeeease, Mother? I want to be a good swordsman like Grandfather and Father and Uncle are."

Oriana looked down at her son, and Eleanor saw the signs of that inner war that any mother went through play on her face. It wasn't just not wanting your child not to take that dangerous step. It was the realization that they _had_ to take that step. Even if Oren wouldn't end up being Teyrn, he would be expected to rule over some area in some capacity. In Ferelden, that meant being able to bare arms and armor. In the ultimate end, he would have to be able to defend himself. To not let him take that step because you wanted him to remain innocent for another winter or two longer would only hurt him in the end.

Giving a resigned sigh, Oriana held her boy just a little tighter, "Well . . . alright. But not for too long. As I said, your Uncle probably has some things to see to today."

"Yay!" Oren blurted out and started to slide out of his mother's lap.

However, it was Aedan that stopped his progress by holding a hand up and tutting a bit. "Hold on, hold on, your mother is right. I do need to see to some things today. Going to see to some of it right now, but later on I'll grab the practice swords and we'll have a go at it, alright?"

"Oh, alright," Oren pouted some, but obediently got back into Oriana's lap.

Aedan bowed politely to them, "If you will excuse me, ladies."

The three of them inclined their heads in kind and watched him go a moment. Lady Landra was the first to speak as soon as he was out of hearing range.

"Just when are you going to marry that boy off, Eleanor? Maker knows there are quite a few Banns and a number of Arls more than willing to see their daughters married to your youngest. And any of those daughters would be horribly remiss if they didn't think your son was quite the catch."

"My dear Landra, that point of contention has been a source of frustration for quite some time now," Eleanor admitted. "Unfortunately, Aedan is a bit headstrong when it comes to that. He's stated quite a few times that he at least wants to have a voice in choosing who his bride will be. Make no mistake, he understands what we expect of him, he just . . . hasn't found the right girl yet."

It was what she said, but she knew there was a little more to it then that. It wasn't as if Eleanor wasn't aware of her son's promiscuous nature. Bryce kept accounting it to just Aedan being of that age where he needed to "sow his wild oats". She only hoped that he didn't sow so much that it left a line of bastard sons and daughters waiting for a shot at the Teyrnir. It was perhaps mean of her to think of her own son being that careless, but she wasn't going to blind herself with motherly love and ignore potential mistakes. Especially now that they've chosen him to take up the mantle.

_Well, let's just hope that with some guidance and some temperance that side of him will calm,_ she thought with some trepidation. _Or hope the right sort of woman comes his way and quickly settles the matter._

* * *

Kallian was certain she pretty much tripped over her own feet. The practice sword went thunking to the ground and she fell backwards right onto her rump. She cringed and held her right hand as it hurt and buzzed at the same time.

She had stayed up that entire morning. Wandering about, talking to various folks, looking into corners . . . finding things. By the time she ran into Duncan she was already a little tired again. He didn't quite care about her condition and before she knew it he was dragging her off to one of the rooms where they trained their house guards to fight. He insisted that he needed to see something from her, but wouldn't say exactly what. When Duncan pulled from the wall one of the heavier practice swords and faced off directly against her, she knew she was done for.

So now there she was with a thin set of padded armor and an even thinner looking practice sword. She felt awkward to say the least. Something akin to a fish out of water. Every time she hit the ground, Duncan would say something. Mostly to give her time to pull her carcass off the dirt floor, but also because they were things he needed to say.

The first happened to be . . .

"I understand that you are staying in the servant's quarters, Kallian. Mostly at your own insistence. Did you think that was the wisest thing to do?"

She never got to answer it - more like she didn't want to - and only had enough time to get to her feet and go at him again. She wondered how the old bugger managed to find that bit out and figured the noble brat probably tattled on her. The second was...

"Count yourself lucky that I also retired early for the evening and missed dinner. Our hosts simply thought us tired and were not insulted when we did not show. There best not be a repeat of this tonight, however."

She grumbled something about insults and how they seemed to always be heightened to absurd proportions where nobility was concerned, and then was promptly dumped on the ground the third time. That's when she started to get irritated with herself over not being able to stay on her feet or get a hit in on Duncan. She went at him once more and paid for it with stung hands and a bruised bum as he disarmed her with ease. Duncan said nothing at first and waited until she got up off the ground.

"You have speed, Kallian," he didn't even sound winded as he spoke. "Against a more heavily armed opponent that speed will mean your survival."

Kallian stayed hunched over with her hands on her knees, gathering her breath. Duncan was quiet for a short moment then spoke in almost a bemused tone.

"You are also not fighting me at your full potential."

That made Kallian's eyebrow raise and she craned her head to look up at him, "How ya mean?"

She saw the faintest of smiles pass over his lips, "You are fighting me as if this were some tournament match, dear girl. Trying to stand toe-to-toe with me and score points instead of genuine hits."

His smile faded fast, "The darkspawn will not show you the same courtesy. Their only instinct will be to kill you. They will not yield, they will not give you mercy, they cannot be parlayed with. Your only options will be to fight or die."

As he spoke she slowly stood up straight again, his sobering words sinking in fast.

His words were soft but clear, "Was this the way you fought through Vaughan's men?"

Kallian gave a mild frown and shook her head slowly.

"Then pick up your weapon and come at me again. Show me how you truly fight."

Kallian pinched her lips together, nodded once and gathered up the practice sword. She gripped the hilt, looking it over a moment then looked at Duncan.

_Fighting fair . . ._, she thought. _Wasn't what my mother taught me. He's right, I'm not fighting as I should._

Without a word she went to the weapons rack again, tossing the practice sword aside carelessly. From the rack she pulled two of the shorter and lighter practice swords, weighted each one in a hand, nodded in satisfaction, and then strode over to face him again.

Duncan watched her for a moment and then brought around his own practice sword to bare.

* * *

The elf hadn't noticed him, but he was certain the Grey Warden was aware of his presence. Aedan had been watching for a few minutes now from the doorway. He hadn't expected anyone to be in the sparring room and approached the door quietly when his ears caught the tell tale signs. Now, curiosity overwrote all other aims and he silently watched.

She was . . . not very impressive. The elf looked awkward with the longsword and seemed to have trouble parrying with it. Duncan disarmed her with ease and didn't even break a sweat. She was a sprout of a soldier facing off against a seasoned war veteran and it showed.

He shook his head in slight wonderment. How could this woman possibly be seen as having Grey Warden potential? Aedan kept this thought until he heard Duncan's words and then looked again at her with the two smaller blades in hand.

_Vaughan . . . why is that name familiar?_ Aedan had no time to ponder it more as he saw Kallian suddenly move.

He had to blink because it seemed to him that she was moving twice as fast as before. She never stood still, constantly circling Duncan in one direction or another. Though none of her blows were landing, Duncan at least had to put some effort in keeping her at bay.

At one point she ducked a wide swing from his blade and moved passed him by ducking and tumbling forward. To Aedan's eyes the wide swing was easy to predict and he didn't doubt it was purposefully made so just to see what she would do. She rolled upright and in a smooth motion brought both shortswords around and thrust them at Duncan's exposed side. However, he was definitely a master swordsman and spun with the swing, simultaneously deflecting the tips of the blades and bringing his exposed side out of reach.

The hit missing its mark seemed to only make her grit her teeth more. What happened next happened in a scant few seconds. She turned her body towards him and stepped forward. Using the side of her arm she braced it against his as his swing was ending. He was hyper extended and slightly off balance. She didn't have the weight to push him over, but that wasn't her intent. Kallian brought the other sword up and aimed right for Duncan's face to slash it across his eyes. With her other arm blocking both of his, it was going to hit its mark.

At the last split second, however, she must have realized what she was about to do and changed the blade's angle, the dull edge of the practice sword only grazed his forehead. Duncan took full advantage. He only had to shift his feet, dip down slightly, and using both his strength and full weight he pushed Kallian with his shoulder. She went flying and landed on her back with an audible thud and a whoosh of air.

Aedan winced. Not in sympathy for Kallian. He was rather quite enjoying the fact that the bitter little wench was getting something of a beating. He winced in remembrance of the sensation of hitting the ground like that. The air would flee from your body in protest and for some seconds you were fairly certain that your lungs had completely forgotten how to breathe. The rasping intake of breath she gave was a definite sign that it was exactly what had happened.

Despite being soundly beat he had to begrudgingly admit that she had some skill. Her fighting style was different from his, but it did look as if she could survive in a stand up fight. Just as long as her opponent wasn't akin to a commander of the Grey Wardens with years of experience under his belt.

Duncan gave something of a sigh and stood up straight. He still hadn't broken a sweat, but he at least was breathing a little heavier.

"Now I need to ask why it was that you hesitated," he placed the tip of the sword on the ground and folded both hands over the pommel. "Had you managed to strike me across the eyes I would have been temporarily stunned or more. You might have even gotten lucky and bested me."

The Warden had to have known that the elf couldn't possibly answer him in that moment. She was still on the ground and rolled to her side to give a couple of rasping coughs.

Duncan continued, "Perhaps you were worried about permanently injuring me, and if so I appreciate the concern. However, I've had worse wounds and have recovered for them. So next time, when I ask you to fight in your truest form, I want to see exactly that. Do not hold back or this will be the end result every time."

Kallian's back was to the door so he didn't see what expression she had, but he did see her head droop. Duncan didn't say more to her, but looked right at Aedan instead.

"Ah, my Lord Aedan," he spoke as if he hadn't known he'd been there the whole time. "Looking to use the sparring room? My apologies if we've gotten in the way."

He saw Kallian visibly tense, then whatever pride she had forced her to get up off the ground. She never turned to look in the direction of the door, and busied herself with knocking the dirt off the padded armor.

Aedan raised a hand, shook his head, and started walking towards a tall barrel in one of the corners, "You've done no such thing. I am just here to grab a practice blade. Do not stop on my account."

Duncan inclined his head, "Thank you, but . . . I think we are quite done for the day."

The elf paused in her dusting for a second then resumed in a more energetic - and likely upset - manner. The act induced a few more coughs. Duncan cast a subtle glance in her direction.

"For now I think I'll be heading to the town proper," as he spoke he went about replacing the practice blade back on the wall. "With your father's soldiers now away it will be easier to see if anyone happens to catch my eye."

As he pulled the much smaller wooden sword out of the barrel he looked over at Duncan, "Do you need someone to help guide you through Highever?"

"That won't be necessary," he said and smiled. "Though the offer is appreciated, I think I can find my way."

"Fair enough," he replied. "Can we expect you for dinner this eve?"

"You most certainly can," he cast another look over in Kallian's direction and spoke more solidly. "We will _both_ be there."

The elf still kept her back to them and said nothing. Her only reaction was to start pulling off the padded armor and stow it away.

Aedan kept his opinion on her being there under wraps. He doubted she'd be seated at the head table with so many other important guests in the castle. So the chances of trying to have a civil conversation with her would be practically non-existent. That was fine by him and was certain it was fine by her.

"I look forward to being able to speak more at length with you, Warden," Aedan said instead.

"As do I," Duncan inclined his head politely again. "If you will excuse me."

Duncan left the room and Aedan's eyebrows immediately furrowed as he looked in her direction. He thought for a few seconds to maybe say something, but she quickly took that option away. Without a word, without a look, without any acknowledgment of his presence, she walked right passed him and out the door.

A frown crested his lips and he murmured under his breath, "Fine by me. _Just_ fine. More important things to tend to."


	6. Friends of the Hawk

_**A/N:**__ I've rewritten this part about four times now. I couldn't get it to "flow" right the first few times until I tossed in a minor character and made him more flirtatious. You'll see who he is when you read. If he seems a little off cannon it's because it was done on purpose._

_Also, I always found it annoying that the biggest reaction you got out of anyone in the game for you playing a noble was "have I seen you at the Landsmeet?" One would think that being the son/daughter of a Teyrn, second family only to the king, and potentially one who might be the next Teyrn of Highever, you'd have met your future peers face to face by then, be acquainted with them at the very least. I know they couldn't expand on it in game due to story mechanics (it had to work with all the origins, after all), but since this is my take on it, I'm tweaking it to my liking. So there! Nyah!_

_**A/N**: (3/5/2010) Changed a small bit during Aedan's PoV to match things in Part 8 and Part 3_

_**A/N:** (3/20/2010) Spelling and grammar changes made. Thank you Betas!_

_**A/N:** (4/24/2010) Punctuation and grammar changes made._

_**A/N:** (6/18/2010) Minor phrase changes, capitalization changed on some words for consistency.  
_

* * *

Part 6: Friends of the Hawk

Kallian never felt more uncomfortable in her life. She was seated apart from Duncan so she couldn't take shelter in his shadow. They sat her near the head of one of the side tables. Seats normally reserved for sons and daughters of Banns or other such "important" sorts. Not for an elf.

She could feel the looks cast in her direction. Caught the occasional curious murmurs. One of them gave a full disapproving look right down his nose at her. Being seated farther away from the head, he no doubt disliked being placed in a "lesser" spot than one of her kind.

To make matters worse, Oralyn found a dress for her to wear. Kallian tried to convince her that the clothes she slept in were good enough, but she wasn't having any of that. Unable to duck out of dinner, Kallian had no choice but to wear it. It wasn't made of silks, but it was just as fine as her wedding dress had been. The dress fit loose about her chest and tight about her waist. She took a hit to her feminine ego when she learned the dress was Oralyn's . . . when she was a few winters younger. They had to add a longer skirt to the ensemble as her legs were longer than Oralyn's had been.

Now she sat with an ill fitted dress in an even more ill fitted seat with a bruised rear, eating a meal with humans she didn't know in a castle with nobles she didn't serve. Kallian did her best to keep her head down and just concentrate on the meal in front of her. Unfortunately, the man next to her had other ideas.

"So, I'm to understand that you are the Grey Warden recruit?"

She glanced over at him, not looking at his face, but at his clothes. They were fine, tailor made, with gold embroidery. That was all she had to see to tell her what she needed to know about him. Kallian quietly nodded her head then prodded her fork at the remaining food on her plate.

"Well, I have to say I am rather surprised . . ."

_Ah, here we go_, she thought. _Here is where he says he didn't know we elves could become Wardens. About how none of the elves he knows could even wield a wooden ladle let alone a blade. And where I haul off and slug him, causing a scene and get both Duncan and myself tossed out of the castle. This is exactly why I wanted to avoid dinner._

" . . . I didn't know they recruited women as beautiful as you."

The prodding with her fork stopped and her eyes widened a tad.

_Oh, sod, no. He's not trying to . . ._

"Gives a man some encouragement to try and impress the Warden enough into getting recruited, knowing that someone like yourself will be there."

_. . . flirt . . . with me . . . _

She looked up at him slowly to be greeted by a flirtatious smile. He had her stumped for a moment. She had been so caught up in the notion that any noble she'd come across would immediately treat her lesser than she is that she had neglected to account for this particular reaction. This noble was possibly one of the kind that didn't mind what he flirted with as long as it was pretty and willing. Kallian stammered for a second.

He gave a short chuckle at her reaction, "My apologies, my lady. I've not properly introduced myself. I am Dairren, son of Bann Loren and Lady Landra. I am honored to be able to speak to you."

Inwardly, she flailed at the advance and was ready to quickly cut him off at the knees, but something else in her put a wall up in front of that idea. It wasn't as if she didn't know how to playfully flirt with a man, far from it. The noble next to her was seeing her woman side first instead of her elven. She should be taking advantage of this, not knocking it away. Kallian had idiotically shut the door on the chance before with Lord Aedan. Maybe she could get something out of Lord Dairren here instead.

She recalled in her mind the woman she ran into in the Denerim market once. Kallian had just survived her twelfth winter and her parents trusted her enough to try and find little odd jobs on her own. The woman she ran into wasn't a noble, but she was rich. Kallian offered to carry the packages she had bundled in her arms. For the rest of that day she followed the woman, fetching this or that, carrying what the woman bought. She even gave her opinion as to if the red dress or green dress went better with the woman's hair. Other than being nice and other than tipping her two whole silver for the day there was one other thing Kallian always remembered about her. Her voice.

It was smooth, silky, and always sounded coy. She listened as man after man . . . and she was certain one or two women . . . responded positively to her voice and manner of speech. She'd laugh lyrically, even if the joke or flirtation was horrible, then later wink at Kallian as the laugh would shave a few more coin off the price of an item. After that day she never saw the woman again, but when she was alone she'd try to practice how the woman walked, moved, and spoke. Only being twelve her voice didn't have the depth back then, but now . . .

Kallian gave a small coy smile, smoothed and deepened her voice, and tilted her head just slightly, "I am Kallian Tabris. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord."

She put her fork down and offered a limp-wristed hand to him and saw his eyes light up at her encouraging response. As expected he took her hand, inclined his head and brought her hand up to his lips.

"Oh, no, I assure you," his eyes never left hers. "The pleasure is all mine."

He kissed the back of her hand and Kallian had to fight the clenched fist that had become her stomach. It wasn't as if Lord Dairren was ugly. He had a boyishly handsome face, in fact, and he certainly wasn't the brute Vaughan had been. However, he was still a noble and could potentially be too forceful in his advances.

She had to remind herself that this was just a mummer's play. A little act to get what she wanted out of Lord Dairren while losing nothing in return. There was nothing that she had to promise him. It was a game and she intended to win it.

* * *

Aedan had been talking amiably with the Grey Warden. He'd gotten over his hero worship earlier and asked him things he'd always been curious about. What did Weisshaupt Fortress look like? What lands had Duncan traveled before he came to Ferelden? What was the most difficult thing for a Grey Warden to face?

To this last question Duncan seemed hesitant to answer. He started off by saying something about the nature of people, but was cut short by his father calling for a toast. He gave an uplifting speech to King, country, the Maker, and gave recognition to their esteemed guests. It was during the drinking of the toast that his glance caught view of the elf and Dairren. The looks and subtle gestures they gave one another spoke of more than just being "friendly" to one another. He smothered down the churning of anger in him as he wondered if she did have something personal against him. Dairren, being a noble himself, surely couldn't have charmed her in such a short time. If Aedan's theory of her having something against nobles in general was correct, then she should - at the very least - be giving him the cold shoulder.

This wasn't the case and Aedan's eyebrows furrowed as Dairren leaned in close to her ear and she responded with a chuckle hidden behind a hand. The only other option he could think of was that Dairren hadn't told her yet that he was Bann Loren's son. However, all an observant person had to do was look at his clothes and know he was no commoner.

He must have stared overly too long because her eyes flitted upwards to catch him watching. The smile she wore briefly faded and she gave Aedan an icy glare. The moment passed and she was back to leaning in toward Dairren to whisper something in return. Aedan slowly tapped a finger on the table in irritation.

"Warden," he looked briefly at Duncan. "What can you tell me about your recruit there?"

Duncan paused with the goblet half way to his lips, "About Kallian?"

"Yes," he tapped his finger a couple more times. "You said you found her in Denerim. Can you tell me about that?"

"I . . .," the Warden lowered his drink back down to the table slowly, " . . . am sorry, but I am afraid it is not my right to tell such a thing. It is a personal matter for her and, as such, only she will be able to tell you that tale. Why? Is something wrong?"

He looked at Duncan more than at her and spoke somewhat quietly, "Does . . . she have some personal grudge against the Couslands?"

"Against your family?" the arch of his eyebrow and mild confusion in his voice calmed Aedan some.

Duncan turned his head to look over at the side table where the elf sat. Both she and Dairren were leaning in toward one another. Kallian delicately held the napkin to her mouth as if it were a lady's kerchief. They apparently had one another's full attention and didn't notice Duncan's scrutiny. He could have sworn he heard a small grumbled sigh come from the Warden. When he looked back at Aedan he looked a little concerned.

"No, she holds no specific grudge against your family," he said. "I am going to venture a guess that she treated you less than politely? If she has, then I do apologize."

Aedan shook his head slightly after a moment, "No, there's no need for you to apologize for it, Warden. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't reading too much into things."

Duncan inclined his head once, his concerned look fading, "If anything, I can tell you she has legitimate reasons for her opinions. She is perhaps a tad misguided, but her pain is a bit fresh. I can only hope that by the time we get to Ostagar some of those wounds have healed. We will be fighting by King Cailan's side along with many others, soldiers and nobles alike, after all."

"I've met His Highness," Aedan said. "He's a kind enough man, but I don't think even he would put up with that sort of . . . treatment."

"No, I suspect not," Duncan took up his goblet again. "Thankfully, there will be time on the road for her to contemplate things more."

"When will you be leaving, by the way?"

"Once I finally get to speak to Ser Gilmore and have given him time to consider the offer . . . we should be leaving day after tomorrow at the earliest."

Aedan relaxed back into the conversation, his worry now ebbed. It still didn't explain why she was being so "chummy" with Dairren, but as long as Aedan or his family wasn't being targeted, he'd accept Kallian Tabris's outlook. Though another bit of irritation hit him as he realized his earlier assessment of her was correct. She did clean up rather nicely in a dress. Another one hit him as he saw the dress was the one he'd given Oralyn several years ago. He shoved down the spikes of irritation hard. He consoled himself with the thought that Duncan and Kallian wouldn't be at the castle for much longer and he'd have more important things to worry about by then. He doubted he'd see the elf ever again after that.

* * *

She had realized part way through the conversation that Lord Dairren was a little tipsy from the wine being served. That suited Kallian just fine and it made it much easier to lure the topic in the right direction. He tried to ask her about the Grey Wardens, but she wasn't able to tell him much. Dairren wasn't able to tell her anything new, but she did confirm a few things.

From him she learned that the woman seated next to the Teyrn at the head table was the Teyrna, Eleanor Cousland. That the other older woman at Eleanor's side was Lady Landra, his mother. The younger woman trying to get the child next to her to eat properly was Oriana, wife of Fergus Cousland, the family's eldest son.

Fergus had been sent ahead with Highever's forces to Ostagar while the rest of them - that being Arl Howe, Teyrn Cousland, and himself as the Teyrn's squire - would go with Arl Howe's men from Amaranthine. Provided they would show up soon. The Teyrna would go to his family's estate with Lady Landra, leaving Aedan Cousland completely in charge. Dairren had guessed it was due to the murmurings he heard that the people favored Aedan as a new Teyrn over Fergus. Not that it was something Kallian really wanted to hear about, but she was letting him ramble.

"Of course," he was saying. "If you ask any lass of age in Highever who they favored they'd immediately name Aedan. Not . . . for his rulership qualities, however."

Dairren gave a coy grin and Kallian raised an eyebrow, "Oh, _really_ now?"

"Oh, yes, really," he swirled the wine in his goblet. "Makes it difficult for the rest of us lads to provide any sort of competition when every fair lass in Highever already pines for any sort of time they can get with Lord Aedan."

Kallian tried not to have her lip twitch in disgust and wasn't sure if she succeeded. Even if it had, Dairren seemed to not notice and leaned in to utter to her.

"Though, if I may be so bold, I think those fair lasses pale in comparison to your exotic beauty. One moment with you is certainly worth a thousand evenings with any number of them."

"Oh, my," Kallian forced herself to give a light lyrical chuckle. "But you do know how to flatter a woman, Lord Dairren."

It was then that she noticed behind Dairren's shoulder an elven lad not much older than eleven winters. He carried a tray with yet another goblet of wine on it probably intended for her tipsy suitor. Not an unusual event, but what caught her attention was that the lad was staring more at her than he was where he was going. Because of it Dairren's elbow connected with the tray and the goblet tipped over, spilling wine all over the tray and onto the sleeve of his fine shirt. He stood up in natural reaction, holding his arm out away from the rest of him. The elven lad, looked wide eyed and horrified, his mouth working, but no words coming out. Others nearby turned their heads in their direction, the clank and chair scuffing along the ground drawing looks.

"Wonderful," Dairren uttered flatly, looking at his sleeve in dismay.

"I'm sorry!" the lad squeaked. "I didn't mean it, milord!"

Kallian gritted her teeth and clenched a fist at the cloth of her skirt. She wasn't certain how he was going to react to this, but she did know for certain that if he brought harm to the lad in any way, shape, or form she would have to strangle him. To the demons with it landing her in the castle dungeon, she wasn't going to abide him punishing someone for a simple accident. Her fist loosened, though, as he spoke again.

"Calm down, now, calm down," Lord Dairren gave a slight wry grin. "Just an accident. I was well on the trail to spilling wine on myself eventually this evening as it was."

A woman at the head table gave an audible sigh. It was Lady Landra, "Honestly, Dairren just how much wine have you had?"

"Enough to know . . ." he made a show of putting the goblet he had in his hand on the table away from himself, ". . . when I have had too much, Mother Dear."

It earned a collective chuckle from those close by and with it any tension in the air dissipated. The lad looked around, realizing he wasn't about to be punished. He still held the tray with the tipped over goblet and the wine threatening to spill further. Oralyn, who seemed to come out of nowhere, rescued him. She handed Lord Dairren a slightly damp cloth and took the tray from the lad, shooing him quickly away.

"I do apologize, my lord," as she spoke another servant seemed to materialize from nowhere and spirited the tray away with expert ease. "We can easily make sure that stain doesn't set in if you wish, though we'd need the shirt right away."

"Thank you ever so kindly," he looked at Kallian with another wry smile. "Well, milady, it seems I am being called away to tend to my wound. Will there be a chance of seeing you... later, perhaps?"

She glanced about the dining hall as others were beginning to slowly, but surely, excuse themselves for the eve.

"Perhaps," she looked at him again with a small smile. "On the morrow. I could stand to get some air and early rest tonight."

A little bit of disappointment shaded his eyes, but he kept the smile. Dairren reached down to take up her hand and kiss the back of it again, "As you will, milady. Tomorrow, at dinner at the very least?"

"At the very least, yes."

"Goodnight, then," he bowed his head and he walked away with a pleasant grin.

Oralyn stayed behind a brief moment, seeming to shift uncomfortably where she stood and looked oddly at Kallian. A look of confusion and worry seemed to pass over her face, but before Kallian could question her she headed off after Lord Dairren.

* * *

The next morning Kallian slowly got her armor on feeling as sore as she had ever been. The travel from Denerim to Highever, the training with Duncan, and having stayed up way too many hours in a stretch the previous day had worn terribly on her. She wanted to just lay there all day, but there was this odd caterwauling coming from somewhere that woke her up. The one servant that came into the room and headed back out didn't seem panicked or overly worried about the noise so Kallian took her time waking, stretching, and just generally trying to make sense of everything.

Oralyn had come to her last night with the eleven year old elven boy peeking out from behind her. He'd wanted to apologize about the mess he made and explain to Kallian that he just couldn't get over that an elven Grey Warden was in their presence. Kallian said that she wasn't a Warden yet, but that didn't seem stop him from looking at her in wonderment. In hindsight, she felt a bit ashamed at the way he was looking at her. Ashamed that, perhaps she wasn't exactly living up to the grand reputation of a Grey Warden. She wasn't even close.

Then Oralyn had words of her own to share. She had asked what her intentions were towards Lord Dairren and how it could be that she'd obviously treat Lord Aedan so differently. Her questions hit a little too close for Kallian's liking and she muddled through her explanation with a simple statement that she wouldn't be around the castle or even Highever for much longer. If she had a single night's worth of passion with Lord Dairren then so be it. It wasn't as if they'd have the first illicit rendezvous in all of Fereldan. She knew it didn't answer all of Oralyn's question or was even being truthful, but it seemed to at least ward her away for the night.

She headed out of the servant's quarters to see that it was already midday. The caterwauling was still going on, but outside of the quarters it was paired now with audible barking. Quickly recalling her close call with the Mabari Warhound, she walked and peeked around. Sure enough the noises were coming from the direction of the kitchen. Kallian paused as she saw the Teyrna come around the corner. She didn't see Kallian at all and walked in the opposite direction she was coming from. The Teyrna was fretting with her hands, shaking her head and Kallian could hear her utter to herself.

"Why we ever let him have that troublesome hound..."

The hollering and barking continued down the hallway and Kallian couldn't help but grin slightly. If she was guessing correctly, her fellow midnight snacker was up to something. Kallian walked forward enough to reach the corner and after a last glance at the retreating lady's back, peered into the hall. The hollering and barking was certainly coming from the kitchen. Kallian pondered a second about checking it out until she heard the Teyrna again.

"Ser Gilmore!"

Kallian's head snapped back down the hallway as she heard the one name Duncan had mentioned to her before. She saw Eleanor Cousland down at the far end of the hall walk up to a tall, well built man with red hair. He was a warrior, of that there was no doubt. The sword and shield strapped to his back and scaled armor said as much. There was also a familiarity in his posture that Kallian had seen before. In irritation she realized it was the same sort of posture Lord Aedan Cousland carried. The posture of a trained soldier.

She couldn't hear what the Teyrna and Ser Gilmore were speaking of exactly. She was too far to hear over the din of screeching and barking. However, Lady Cousland pointed a finger back down the hallway, obviously to the ruckus. Ser Gilmore nodded his head, raised his hands in some form of reassurance to her, and then crossed his forearms over his heart in a salute and bowed his head. The Teyrna continued on her way and went out of sight around another corner. Ser Gilmore turned and headed straight in Kallian's direction.

_Well,_ she thought, _here's a chance to meet the man that just might be a fellow recruit._

She kept herself where she was, glancing toward the noise on occasion until he got closer. Gilmore raised his head as he spotted her and she saw the brief confusion in his eyes. Kallian was a female elf wearing leather armor within the halls of Cousland Castle. Questionable by any human standards, but apparently logic overcame things and the confusion disappeared when he got close.

"Ah, you must be the Grey Warden recruit everyone mentioned," he eyed her from head to toe as he came to a stop in front of her.

Though normally not prone to enjoying such scrutiny, Kallian didn't mind it at all this time. He wasn't leering at her and she figured that he wanted to get a measure of her for the same reasons she wanted to get a measure of him.

"That would be me," Kallian nodded and quirked a small smile. "And ya be Ser Gilmore."

"I . . . am," he sounded a little surprised. "You know of me?"

"Well, I heard the Teyrna there call your name out just now," she smile more and nodded. "And Duncan mentioned ya name so I've heard of ya. If she hadn't hollered out like that I wouldn't have know ya from King Cailan."

He laughed lightly at that, "Then it's well and good that the Teyrna waved me down then. Keeps the introductions short and you don't start unnecessarily bowing for no reason."

Kallian smiled even more. She was already liking him.

"I'll try ta refrain from kneeling before ya, then," Kallian said, bringing a chuckle out of him. "Have ya spoken ta Duncan yet?"

"Not as yet," he clasped his hands behind him. "I'm supposed to speak to him later this afternoon. Have to admit that I'm both excited and nervous about it."

"I can imagine, but I wouldn't worry too much about talking ta him," Kallian crossed her arms and leaned on the nearby wall. "If ya can handle talking to a Teyrn and Teyrna on a daily basis, then speaking at Duncan should be a snap for ya."

"Thank you," he replied, giving a more relaxed smile. "That's very encouraging. I-"

There was a sudden crash from down the hall, a cacophony of barking and yet more shrill hollering. Both of them winced at the noise.

Ser Gilmore gave a small sigh, "It seems my lord's Mabari Warhound got into the kitchen larder again and the head cook isn't pleased one bit."

To emphasize his words the hollering voice raised in volume enough that they could hear her clear through the closed door.

"I'll skin the damnable beast myself, I will!"

Ser Gilmore groaned, then gave an apologetic look at Kallian, "Would love to speak to you more, but if I don't calm her down enough, someone's head is going to roll. Mind if I find you later? I definitely have questions."

"Wouldn't mind that one bit," Kallian nodded at him. "Might not have many answers for ya, though."

He smiled again and shook his head, "Just speaking to you should be enough. See you then!"

He gave a short bow of his head to her that she returned in kind. As he turned to leave she called at him, "Good luck!"

Gilmore glanced back with a look as if to say thanks and that he was going to need it. She watched until he reached the door. He paused, rolled his eyes to the sky once in silent prayer, took a very deep breath and headed in.

Kallian chuckled once and shook her head at the amusing situation. She wasn't about to get into a bout between the Mabari Warhound, Angus, and the irate human head cook, Nan. Last thing she needed was to be assumed to be a servant and end up helping with cleaning things up. The best thing was to stay out of Gilmore's way.

Pushing herself off the wall she began walking to try and get some of the kinks out of her muscles. As she did she quietly wished that she didn't know that Gilmore was a noble. She'd found that out through some small talks with a few servants. Though a sterner voice in her mind was telling her that it shouldn't matter.

_As Duncan told you, once someone becomes a Warden what they were before doesn't matter anymore. Regardless if Ser Gilmore is noble born or not, if he becomes a Grey Warden then he'll be the same as you. So you best get along with him now, idiot._

She glowered a bit as she berated herself and somehow imagined Duncan somewhere nodding in approval.

Some time later Kallian found herself up on the battlements just above the courtyard. She leaned forward on her elbows on the stone and marveled a little bit at how quiet it was. All the soldiers, wagons, horses, and other such sundries of war had been cleared out. The lack of bustle made her think that it wasn't even the same castle they had entered. A breeze blew by and she inhaled deeply. There was a tell tale coolness in the air that told of rain in the days to come. She could only guess that by tonight or tomorrow morning that the skies which had been only lightly dusted with clouds would disappear and the seasonal rains would begin in earnest.

"Oh, there you are."

She turned to look and smiled as she saw Ser Gilmore.

"And here I was just making my rounds," he approached and stood next to her. "Wasn't expecting you up here."

"Wasn't expecting ta be up here either," she turned her eyes to look around the courtyard again. "Just sort of wandered here. Seems a nice enough spot ta just stay out of the way."

He turned and put his hands on the battlement walls to lean on them and looked into the courtyard himself, "Not used to castle life I take it?"

She shook her head slowly, "Not quite the normal thing for me, no. How did things in the kitchen go?"

He gave a wry grin, "It luckily resolved itself. Seems there were large rats in the larder and milord's warhound either found or chased them in there. The rats are dead, the warhound is a hero, and the head cook had to begrudgingly accept it."

Kallian chuckled, but before she could state anything further she saw movement in the courtyard below. There were two figures, one man, and a familiar four-footed one. She started to smile, but then her mind caught up to what her eyes were really seeing. She wasn't too certain why it was that she never put it together in her head before now, but she kicked herself for not trying to guess who "milord" was in the phrase "milord's warhound". Kallian had made the hasty assumption that it belonged to the Teyrn. Why else would the hound be allowed to wander about the castle and not be in a kennel? To her dismay, the man was ... _him_ ... and Angus was following him obediently, barking excitedly as he threw a stick he had in his hand across the yard.

Her shoulders slumped some and she put her chin in her hand, mumbling, "Somehow . . . this depresses me."

Ser Gilmore eyed her with a quirked eyebrow, "It depresses you the matter was resolved?"

"Eh? Oh, nono, not that," she motioned her head to the pair below. "That."

Gilmore peered down for a moment, then eyed her again, "Well, it is easy to get jealous of anyone who has their own Mabari Warhound."

Kallian grunted once and nodded. She left unsaid that she probably wouldn't be as jealous if it wasn't Lord Aedan, specifically, that Angus belonged to.

"You know, I need to ask," he leaned forward the same as her with his elbows keeping him propped up. "I had heard from some of the servants that you're staying with them and not in a guest room. That it was done at your request. I have to admit I'm curious as to why that is."

Her eyebrows furrowed a little and she pinched her lips together. She had to wonder just what else the servants had been saying about her.

He continued, "I'll understand if you don't care to answer it, but I'd rather not go on things based on rumor and assumptions."

She looked at him then. His head was lowered down closer to her own height so she could see clearly that there was no accusation in his eyes, only worry and concern. What that worry and concern was specifically for, she didn't know, but the look was genuine.

Kallian sighed and looked back down into the courtyard as she answered, "In part . . . I wouldn't have been too comfortable in a fancy room like that. Silks and feather down pillows might sound nice ta most, but I would have felt awkward. Awkward enough ta not get any sleep. I be used ta straw beds and livin' in the same space with at least two others. Alienage living might not be the best, but it be what I'm used ta."

Ser Gilmore nodded his head slowly, "I suppose I can understand that. But you say that's only part?"

"Well... yes... part," she twisted her lip some, hesitant to say more, then she saw someone else enter the courtyard. She stiffened seeing who it was and then quickly ducked behind the battlement wall. She sat herself on the floor with the stone at her back.

Ser Gilmore blinked a few times down at her, glancing into the courtyard, then at her again, "Something... wrong?"

Kallian let out a slight exasperated sigh, "It be Lord Dairren."

He blinked again, then went about removing the sword scabbard and shield from his back, and joined her on the floor, "I . . . was under the impression that you and Lord Dairren were . . . getting along rather well?"

"Let me guess. Servants tell ya about that as well?" she grumbled.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Gilmore gave a short grin. "One would think with as much that's needed to be done around here that there wouldn't be time for rumor or gossiping, yet there it is."

"Should have guessed they'd do as such," Kallian ran her hand through her hair and huffed a sigh. "I was getting along rather quite well with him at dinner last night... maybe a little too well. Wanted to avoid talking to him again until dinner tonight if I can help it. Not that I don't want ta talk to him, I just feel more comfortable speaking with him with other people around."

"Ah," Gilmore nodded a little. "Lady's prerogative. I don't think anyone can blame you for that."

Kallian quirked an eyebrow, "That sort of thing apply to us elves, too?"

He smiled a bit, "A lady is a lady, as my father would say. Doesn't matter what they happen to be, any woman has more prerogatives in a day than a man can have in his entire lifetime."

Kallian couldn't help but laugh, but cut herself short as to not be too loud. She brought it down to a chuckle and looked at Ser Gilmore. He kept the smile for a moment, but then looked a little more serious.

"Look, I won't lie to you," he shifted a bit. Sitting as he was couldn't have been entirely comfortable. "I've asked here and there about both you and Duncan. It was purely out of curiosity, you understand. I especially started to inquire about things when I heard that the Grey Warden wanted to speak to me for possible recruitment. What I heard of Duncan was fairly much straight forward. What I heard of you, however…"

Ser Gilmore hesitated a bit and Kallian sighed, "Let me guess. That bad?"

"Well… no," he tilted his head some. "It seems no one really knows what to make of you. Some of them say you have an accent as thick as a sailor's while others say you speak like any other Fereldan would. Then I hear account of you having manners befitting a noblewoman, yet I've heard disturbing grumblings about you being less than civil toward Lord Aedan."

Kallian shrunk into herself a bit and looked away some.

He quickly continued and with a bit of a smile in his voice, "All I'm really saying is that you have the gossip hens rather quite confused. Which I'd rather congratulate you for and not admonish you over it. That and . . . "

When he paused she looked back over at him again. He was smiling, but his eyes still carried that worry.

"… and I'd rather find things out from you directly instead of going by second, third, and fourth hand information. I don't mean any offense by any of it."

She eyed him for a good score of seconds, then leaned her head back on the stone, speaking rather quietly, "Not offended. I'm… relieved."

"Relieved?"

"That you're wanting to ask and not just assume things," she quirked a grin and looked over at him slightly. "So… go ahead, ask away. I won't hold back anything. I swear it."

* * *

"Wait, let me get this straight," Dairren looked at him in complete bafflement. "She's been in the castle a full two days and you _haven't_ tried to seduce her?"

Aedan glowered a bit as he took the stick from Angus's maw and tossed it solidly across the courtyard again. The warhound bounded after it with full gusto. Even after having his little "adventure" in the kitchen larder he still had quite a bit of coal in the fire. He hoped the game of fetch would get him to settle down. It wasn't the reason for his glower, though.

Dairren continued, "A woman with her looks and poise? I mean the dress was certainly borrowed, but it fit her well enough, if you get me. You sure you aren't coming down with an illness or something?"

Aedan sighed, "I am not ill nor have I gone mad. I just don't think she is as fantastic as you're making her out to be."

"We are talking about the same woman here, right?" he arched an eyebrow. "The elven Grey Warden recruit, Kallian, yes?"

"Yes," Aedan responded without hesitation, he tossed the stick again. "I think you need to be leery of that woman, Dairren. She's not fond of us nobles, yet she's treating you rather friendly like."

Dairren straightened the cuffs on his sleeves, "Well, perhaps I just simply happen to strike her fancy. Perhaps, for once, a delicate morsel has landed my way first instead of yours."

"This isn't a competition, you know," he glanced at him before taking the stick from Angus.

"Says the man who landed both of Bann Quin's daughters last festival causing both of Arl Wulff's sons to take you to task at the tourney," Dairren clicked his tongue and shook his head. "You were lucky the bouts were only to first blood otherwise you would have been dead twice over."

Aedan grunted as he threw the stick, "Don't remind me. The time spent with Tari and Marrisa wasn't quite worth the beating."

"And you even remembered their names," he said with an incredulous tone. "See, this is exactly why it is a competition with you about."

He looked flatly at Dairren, "I thought we were talking about Kallian Tabris, not me."

Dairren held a hand up, "Alright, alright. Easing off. But I still don't see how you wouldn't or couldn't…"

His voice trailed off and Aedan looked at him as he was trying to wrestle the stick away from Angus.

"Ah… I see," he nodded, apparently coming to some conclusion. "It's because of Iona… isn't it?"

Aedan kept his voice neutral, "What about Iona?"

"Please, must I actually answer that?" Dairren quirked an eyebrow at him. "I knew it the moment Mother said we were taking Iona with us that you wouldn't be able to resist the temptation."

Stick finally in hand he held on to it a few moments, looking at Dairren out of the corner of his eye, then threw the stick, "And you have?"

"She's my mother's handmaiden," he replied flatly. "You do know what sort of reaction I would get should I have done anything of the sort. Mother and Father would have me strung up to dry right along side the table cloths and bed sheets."

Aedan chuckled a bit and was about to respond, but the main gate into the courtyard boomed open. Four men entered, two were castle guards and they escorted in two other armored men in, one of them held a silver toned helm in his hands despite wearing a helm already. They wore the heraldry of a bear in front of a white and yellow shield, the coat of arms of the Arl of Amaranthine. Angus stopped in mid return, looking in the direction of the men with an ear perked. Suddenly, he dropped the stick from his maw, turned quickly and started barking snarling and lunging forward at the men. They all backed away, the men from Amaranthine more so, until Aedan snapped out a command.

"Angus! To my side!"

Angus stopped his lunging, but he didn't heed and continued to bark and snarl.

"_Angus! Now!_"

The Warhound's ears went back and he quickly went to Aedan's side, but he immediately faced the men and still carried a low toned growl.

Aedan hissed at him, "Stop that! You know better."

Angus finally quieted, but his ears were still back and he was obviously fighting not baring his teeth. Aedan looked up as the men approached cautiously. He eyed Arl Howe's men a little suspiciously. His Warhound might have been too energetic for his own good, but he knew better than to immediately threaten someone being escorted in . . . unless they had ill intent.

"Sorry about that, he's normally better behaved," he kept one hand on the top of Angus's head. "Are you here to say that Arl Howe's forces have arrived?"

The two men, their little scare over, approached. The one with the helm shook his head, "No, unfortunately, milord. Do you know where Arl Howe is, we have some dire news for him."

At that he held out the helm in his hands. It was a helm normally worn by the captains of Howe's forces, the carving of a charging bear crested the top of it, but on closer inspection it's silver tone was marred red by splatters of blood and the straight noseguard was bent in. Way too far in.

The other man spoke in grave tones, "Your Warhound probably smelled the blood, milord..."

Angus whined at the words and shifted his feet on the ground. Aedan pet his head reassuringly.

"Arl Howe should be in the great hall with my father and the Grey Warden," he furrowed his eyebrows looking at the helm again. "I will take you to him."

* * *

Above, two sets of eyes peered down into the courtyard. The activity below was hard to ignore.

"Looks like somethin's afoot," Kallian uttered.

Ser Gilmore nodded, looking serious, "I think I better get down to the hall."

"Not without me ya don't," she stood up straight and dusted her rear with a hand. "Long as it doesn't involve feast hall dinners or awkward social situations, I want in."

By the time they reached the hall, Arl Howe was talking quietly with his two men at one end of the hall. Teyrn Cousland, Duncan, and Lords Aedan and Dairren stood nearer to the fireside end of the hall, waiting patiently for the Arl to get his news. They all glanced in their direction as she and Ser Gilmore entered the hall from a side door.

Gilmore bowed briefly to them, almost informally, then motioned his head to where Arl Howe was, "What goes, sers? Have they finally arrived?"

The Teyrn shook his head, "No, it seems something has happened."

Lord Dairren, who smiled in Kallian's direction and inclined his head to just her, returned his attention to the others and uttered, "Hasn't it taken a bit too long? They should have been here at least a day ago."

"Mind yourself, Lord Dairren," the Teyrn said, his eyebrows furrowing a little. "Arl Howe has... simply had a few setbacks."

"More than a few."

Kallian's eyebrow rose as it was Duncan that uttered the words. His arms were crossed and he was staring down the hall in Arl Howe's direction. At that point Howe approached them all with a tarnished silver helm in his hands.

"Uhm, your Grace," his eyebrows were furrowed. "I have some . . . unfortunate news. It seems my men will be delayed just a little longer."

"Longer?" the Teyrn did not sound too pleased. "By how long and why?"

Howe seemed to wince, "I'm . . . not entirely certain by how much longer, hopefully no less then another day, but I can tell you why. It seems the captain of my contingency has . . . met with an untimely accident."

He held the helm up a little bit, "These two who were sent to inform me can't seem to give me a straight answer as to how this occurred, but as a result my men are in disarray. It's unfortunate, but I will have to go there, figure what happened, and lead my men here myself."

The Teyrn inhaled deeply then let it out in a short huff, "You do realize we'll have much to answer for if we arrive at Ostagar long after the fighting is done, do you not?"

"Y-yes, your Grace, you have my deepest apologies for this. I will make it all up to you . . . I swear."

Cousland's shoulders eased a tad, "Just . . . get your men here as soon as possible. We'll leave almost as soon as they get here."

Arl Howe bowed, crossing his arms over his heart, "It will be done, your Grace."

He turned and left, not saying another word.

"Now I'm definitely glad I sent Fergus ahead with our men," the Teyrn clasped his arms behind his back and looked at the others. "Would be a bit of a marring on Highever and Cousland honor if we didn't show."

"I doubt anything could truly mar the Cousland name, your Grace," Duncan said. "As you said yourself, everyone is scrambling. I don't think King Cailan will hold it against you."

"Well, I certainly hope not," the Teyrn replied in a lighter tone. "Now that's over . . . Lord Dairren, a moment if you will."

His shift in tone seemed to signal to everyone to go their merry way. Lord Aedan headed to a corner where Angus had apparently been told to stay and using only small gestures lead the Warhound out of the great hall. The Teyrn was uttering quietly to Lord Dairren and - though Dairren gave a look in Kallian's direction - they were meandering out of the hall as well. Duncan approached she and Gilmore.

"So, I see you two have met."

Kallian gave a short nod, "Only for a short bit now, but yes."

Duncan looked at him, "Ser Gilmore, would now be a good time to speak to you?"

Gilmore seemed to draw himself up a little, "Of course, I have some time right now."

"Kallian, if you would excuse us?"

She smartly thumped her chest with a fist in a traditional soldier's salute, and smirked, "Right ya are!"

Duncan arched an eyebrow at her and Ser Gilmore just grinned.

Her smirk turned into more of a sheepish look and she chucked a thumb to the door behind her, "I'll just . . . go and get meself lost in the castle again."

With that she left, but she turned just before leaving, catching Ser Gilmore's eye and mouthed the words "Good luck". Then she finally got herself out of the hall. As she left, she made her own decision that if Duncan didn't see Ser Gilmore worthy of being a recruit she'd have to heavily question why.


	7. The Nest Torn Asunder

_**A/N:** (3/20/2010) Spelling and grammar changes made and one name corrected for reference reasons._

_**A/N:** (5/9/2010) Grammar, punctuation, and a few sentences changed around for smoother reading. My Beta, to_paraphrase, rocks!_

_**A/N:** (6/18/2010) Minor punctuation changes.  
_

Part 7: The Nest Torn Asunder

Kallian woke with a start. Some noise had startled her from a rather deep sleep. The first few moments of sleep haze still had her in its grip and she started to lower herself back down on the bed. That was until her nose caught the smell of smoke. Then there was a scream. Her eyes became fully open and she threw off the covers. Others laying in their beds were also rousing. Something was definitely not right.

Decorum out the door, she yanked her cloth breeches off and quickly got her leather pants and boots on. She was about to pull her shirt off, but the door burst open. In the sudden firelight from outside and the light from the small hearth fire within she could see it was Oralyn. Her eyes were wide, face streaked with tears, her dress stained with both ash and blood.

Kallian started towards her, "Oralyn, wh-"

Oralyn ran toward her, screaming, "Lady Kallian! Help us! They're killing everyone!"

Just as the words escaped her, two figures filled the doorway behind her. They came in fully armed and armored. One of the servants who had been heading to the door before Oralyn burst in stood stunned. He didn't have the time to scream as one of them cut a sword into him from collarbone to belly. The other servants shouted in horror, Oralyn backed away from the scene crying "No!" over and over again. Kallian was the only one to move forward.

She got up on the bed, stooping to grab the sword she kept at her headboard, then leapt off using the momentum to carry her toward them. The human assailants turned to look in her direction, then hesitated a second. She suspected that the two were not expecting anyone in the servant's quarters to be armed, and the surprise of it bought her a precious couple of seconds.

Passing close to the hearth and never loosing step, she grabbed the ash shovel and in a single motion scooped up ash and ember and flung it at them both. They reacted naturally, raising their hands to protect their eyes and faces. She came in low to what they left exposed. A simple arc slashed across the thighs of the one closest to her, the sword's tip cutting deep through the leather breeches. A second reverse slash cut through his legs again into the flesh just above his knees. He screamed, squinting, eyes watering, and in his moment of pain, Kallian grabbed his arm and pulled with all her strength.

She got him to turn with his back now to her, facing his companion. None too soon as the second man had recovered and was bringing his sword around to bare. Giving a guttural scream she pushed the wounded man forward, using him like a shield. He crashed into his ally. With a hand still clenched to the back of his collar she gave a swift kick to the back of his knee and both went toppling over, complete shock on the other man's face.

Kallian didn't relent. She planted her knees on the back of the man on top and then brought her sword down over and over onto their heads, shoulders, and necks. She didn't stop until both men had ceased their gurgled cries and twitching.

She panted as she got to her feet, the familiar "killing numbness" she felt at the Arl of Denerim's estate sinking into her. Quickly she stuck her head out the door to look for more attackers, but she saw none in either direction. There was the smell of smoke, blood, and the sounds of the screams and clashes of combat in the near distance. Moving back into the room she saw the servants all cowering in the corner. Oralyn had fallen to her knees, holding herself, staring catatonically at the bodies and blood.

Kallian gritted her teeth then thrust a pointed finger at one of the servants, "You! Mind the door! Let me know if anyone is coming."

He stood there wide eyed at her for some seconds, unmoving. His eyes then flitted back and forth between her and the bodies on the floor.

Kallian snarled, "Maker's Breath, didn't you hear me?"

She strode over, grabbed him by the arm, and hauled him toward the door, "I need you to be my eyes while I get my armor on. Otherwise, I won't have the chance to get you all out of this!"

Hearing about being saved seemed to snap him out of his fear and he looked at her with small dawning hope, "Y . . . Yes, my lady!"

With that he skirted around the bodies and kept lookout at the door. Kallian made it back to her bed and drug out the rest of her gear from underneath it. She stripped off the blood splattered shirt, again not caring that her top was bare to the world, and used it to quickly wipe off her face.

As she started to get the leather armor on she kept looking over at Oralyn. She remained catatonic and completely unmoving.

"Oralyn," Kallian called to her as kindly as she could, but her voice sounded rough. "Oralyn."

It was no use. Kallian's voice wasn't reaching her. She got the last bits of her gear on. By then, the other servants had come out of the corner and were getting shoes and thicker clothes on. She got to a knee and shook Oralyn by the shoulders.

"Oralyn," she had gotten herself between she and her view of the bodies, then shook her harder. "Oralyn!"

She seemed to be staring right through her. Kallian frowned then slapped her stingingly across the face.

"Oralyn! Snap out of it!" she shouted, shaking her by the shoulders again. "I need you here with me!"

She blinked and looked up at Kallian, her eyes wide. She raised a hand up to her own reddening cheek. Oralyn made a piteous sound, but at least she was seeing Kallian.

"I need to know who these men are," she pleaded. "I need to know of a way out of here!"

Oralyn shook her head shakily, "Howe . . ."

"How what?" Kallian asked when she didn't say more. "What are you trying to say?"

She finally found her voice and gripped at Kallian's hands, "Arl Howe! They're Arl Howe's men!"

Kallian's eyes widened and her mind worked fast as lightening even as Oralyn continued.

"They came through the main gate just . . . _killing_. . . everyone. Jobrey even surrendered and . . . and they just ran him through!" Oralyn began to sob and cry.

_S_he gripped to Oralyn's shoulders as she thought frantically. "Is there a back way out of the castle? A way out they might not know about?"

She tried to hold back her sobbing, "Y . . . Yes. Kitchen . . . next to the cabinet."

"The servant's entrance."

Kallian looked over her shoulder as one of the other servant's spoke up, "In the kitchen there is a small door. The servant's entrance. It's hard to spot from outside the castle so Howe's men might not have seen it yet."

She vaguely remembered a cabinet and a locked door that barely cleared the top of her head right next to it. She'd thought it a supply closet.

"My lady!" her man at the door shouted, pointing down the hall, he sputtered something as he ran back into the room, but Kallian didn't hear him.

She ran passed him, drawing the pair of daggers she "borrowed" from a footlocker in the guard's quarters the day before, and dashed into the hall. An arrow clacked on the stone wall next to her, completely missing its intended target. Two men were down the hall, one with bow, the other with sword and shield. She didn't hesitate and charged. The swordsman sneered and swung his sword at her with an overhand arc. She dodged it, and ran right past him. The archer was still setting his next arrow when Kallian came upon him slashing his bare arms downward with one blade and driving the other into his neck. He fell over in shock and she spun to face the swordsman again. The second he spent hesitating over the fact that he wasn't her initial target just cost him his arrow support and he charged in anger.

Kallian felt calm. Horribly calm. She wasn't fighting these men like she'd fought Vaughan's men. She had anger in her, yes, but it was tightly contained. Emotion had driven her to kill before, and when she did she had spent more time causing pain and savoring their deaths. Now, however, her hits were calculated. She aimed for vitals and looked for ways to incapacitate, figuring the fastest way to fell her enemies and move on. These men's deaths were going to not just mean her survival, but the survival of the people in that room.

He came at her like a boar, shield first, his sword raised high. At the last second, she took one step back and turned sideways to the outside of his shield arm. His momentum carried him forward and he tried to still hit her with the shield by pushing his arm out. She crossed her forearms in front of her, letting the shield hit her arms, and let it push her away. At that exact moment she pushed off with one leg and jutted out her other, her ankle hooking with his. His balance off, the ankle tripping him, he floundered forward, dropping his sword so he could put a hand on the ground prevent himself from crashing face first into the stone. Kallian had kept her balance and she wasted no time in leaping upon him, her daggers digging into his sides where the armor didn't protect as well. He screamed and tried to crawl away from her onslaught. She silenced him with a quick under-slash to the front of his throat.

Her senses fully keyed, she looked at the archer again to see he was also trying to crawl away, a hand clamped on the bleeding wound in his throat. She calmly walked over and finished the job by pulling his hand away and stabbing a dagger straight down behind his collarbone to pierce his lung. Kallian looked around as she pulled the dagger out again and left the archer for dead. Seeing no others around, she quickly headed back to the room and its open door.

The servants jumped as she appeared, but she gave them no calming words. She sheathed her bloodied daggers and stooped down to move the bodies of the two attackers away from the doorway.

"I want you to stay here and wedge the door closed," she grunted in between pulls. "I need to clear the path between here and... mmf ... and the kitchen."

"W.. wait, you're just going to leave us here?" one of the servant's exclaimed as he was helping Oralyn to her feet.

"They have archers. You'll get in the way," she practically snarled at them. "Unless one of you wants to pick up a blade and help me?"

They all seemed to shrink where they stood, one of them shook her head.

"Then stay here, barricade the door," she drew one of the blades again. "And for soddin' sake, don't open it up again until you hear it's me!"

With that she shut the door behind her. A part of her was somehow disgusted. Most of them in there were elves and they were cringing like lambs caught in a slaughter pen. Maybe the bloodshed was a bit too much, but she'd hoped that at least one of them would step forward to offer her help. As it was, none of them could even look her in the eye straight when she asked. Kallian was on her own.

* * *

Aedan twisted and pulled the blade out of the gut of the Howe soldier. He fell forward, clutching to the open wound, and Aedan brought down the pommel of his sword to solidly crack at the back of his head. The man slumped to the ground, unmoving, his blood quickly staining the ground.

He swiftly looked behind him, his mother came forward, an arrow still notched in the bow she carried. There was determination in her eyes despite the worried furrow of her eyebrows, and her lips were set thin. Angus, blood on his maw, came about the corner behind her, done with whichever Howe bastard it was that he sank his jaws into.

"They must have already been hiding and waiting for days in the forests for this," his mother said, anger barely being contained in her voice.

Aedan nodded, his tone deadly even, "Waited for Fergus to be too far away with our forces to call them back for aid. Even if we got out and sent a runner..."

"_When _we get out," she said. "We'll hunt down every last one of these beasts ourselves and see Rendon's head on a pike."

He nodded again, his face grim, and pressed on toward getting to the great hall. Every death he managed to cause seemed to only make the image of his nephew and Oriana's dead bodies burn itself deeper into his mind. Pure rage boiled just beneath the surface, but it was kept in check by the need to see to his duty. Finding his father was the first of these. If his father was dead, then the next duty would be to survive and make Rendon Howe pay for this treachery.

Aedan lead the way, intending to take the shortest path to the great hall. Fire and debris barred his way. Just as he turned to head back the way he came he heard and felt the breeze of a crossbow bolt skim passed his ear. His eyes were wide because had he been standing just an inch or two over, the bolt would have found a home in his skull just behind his ear. The bolt sailed through the air, no where close to hitting his mother, and landed harmlessly in the far distance. He spun to face the debris again and saw beyond it and the fire another of Howe's men reloading his crossbow. He was about to shout to his mother, but before he could Angus leapt through the air, easily clearing the fire.

"Angus!" Aedan called, but beyond the fire all he heard was the gurgled scream of the man as the warhound tore into him.

His mother joined him at his side, ready with her bow, but she had no clear shot. He called to Angus again when the screaming stopped. Suddenly, Eleanor yanked him back by the shoulder, pulling him away just as more burning stone and wood came crashing down from the rooftops.

"Angus!" he shouted again, but looked in dismay as the fire was now too large for even Angus to clear. He hesitated, not wanting to leave him behind. His mother pulled at his shoulder again.

"We've no time! Come!"

Aedan gritted his teeth, knowing she was right. He shouted over the fire one last time.

"Get out, Angus! Get out of the castle!"

He heard one single solid bark, giving him some sliver of hope. Then from the other end of the hall, more of Howe's men came. He took the churning anger in him and channeled it into his determination to not only kill them all, but to protect his mother.

Eleanor let loose with another arrow into the group of six men coming towards them. It stuck into the arm of one of the assailants, causing him to stop his advance. As Aedan passed her to meet them head on, she calmly drew another arrow. A bit of pride struck Aedan's heart as she seemed to have not forgotten how to fight, even though it had been decades since she's had to. He raced forward to reach them before they passed where the hall widened. The five remaining were only armed with swords and in the narrower part of the hall, only three could attack him at once. Aedan rammed into the center one head on with his shield. The man flailed back, causing the two behind him to back away. This only left two to attack him directly.

The one to his right had wide eyes and gritted teeth, and he gave almost this panicked grunting sound as he thrust forward simply with his sword. It was easy enough to block it down and away with his own blade. The one to his left tried to bring his weapon down atop Aedan's head, but a simple raising of his arm and a slight bending of his knees made it clank upon his shield instead. An arrow stuck solidly into the side of the calf of the panicked man causing him to drop his sword, clutch his leg, and give a high pitched scream. The horrid sound made the others pause and Aedan took full advantage of it.

He hacked his sword into the side of the man on the other side of his shield. His arms having been raised high to attack, there was nothing stopping his blade from cutting into the armor and flesh just below his ribs. The man inhaled a gasp as the wound was cut open and he reflexively bent his torso and drew his arm in around the cut. Aedan bashed the shield into his face as his head was bending down and there was a satisfying clonking sound as the hit connected. With another swing, he hit the screaming man again, his blade this time cutting high and across his head. Aedan didn't look too closely at how the sharp edge of his sword cut through his face, but the sudden choking sound was enough to tell him he hit his mark. The death of one, and heavy wounding of the other, made them pause yet again.

In a detached fashion Aedan was coming to realize that the majority of the men sent in here were not that well trained. They were confident enough to brutalize completely unarmed and unarmored people. Murderous enough to slay women and children. However, as he experienced fighting them, he sensed that most of them had never been in a fight to the death with a trained swordsman. Only one that they had killed in the family hall appeared to have had training, but that solitary Howe soldier didn't account for an enraged Teyrna and grandmother to fire several arrows into his torso. These swine were sent to slaughter, not to fight in a strategic manner. In that, Aedan was winning these small battles. They were coming at them in scattered bunches, disorganized and simply killing whatever they ran into. They ran about aimlessly in a place he was born and raised in. So, though it was just he and his mother now, the five remaining men honestly didn't stand a chance.

* * *

Ser Gilmore grunted as he helped the House Guard Osmen get another bench braced up against the main great hall door. They had already gotten it barred, but anything extra they added would hopefully prevent Arl Howe's men from ramming through as quickly. The constant thumping of whatever ram they were using had yet to cease and it would only be a matter of time.

It all had happened so quickly. He was wandering about the castle, unable to sleep, his mind heavy with the conversation he had with Duncan. The Grey Warden had given him till the morning to think the offer over. Gilmore had fairly much decided that he would accept it and speak to Duncan in the morning and leave with him and Kallian the same day. He was giving himself one night to think of any reasons why he shouldn't go. Arl Howe's men, unfortunately, gave him one. He knew something was wrong when the two men he didn't know came around the corner with their swords drawn. After that, it was blood, death, fire, and chaos.

He managed to organize the small handful of men into the great hall and was just about to head through the castle with them to find the Teyrn. The Maker saw to it, though, that both the Teyrn and the Grey Warden got to the hall first. The Teyrn was wounded, but he was insistent on finding any of his family. Having not been with the Teyrna when Arl Howe attacked he didn't know if she, Aedan, Oriana, or Oren were alright. Neither Gilmore nor Duncan could convince him to get himself out of the castle. With no other course, Duncan said he'd go with the Teyrn and help him search. He'd looked at Gilmore, not saying a word, but he understood the look with crystal clarity.

It was Ser Gilmore's duty to serve the Couslands and the highest cost of his duty was being called to here and now. He would see to that duty and buy as much time as he could for his Teyrn. Duncan's look told him he wasn't going to pull him away from that for the sake of the Grey Wardens. It also said that he would do what he could in order to help the Teyrn, and Gilmore was eternally grateful. It settled his mind and fortified his determination. _This_ was where he needed to be, no where else.

One of the side doors opened and Gilmore's sword was instantly in his hand. It was lowered again, however, when he saw that it was Lord Aedan and not a Howe soldier coming through the door.

"My Lord Aedan!" He exclaimed as he came forward. Hope rose anew as he saw the Teyrna, clad in armor, enter in behind him. "Your Grace! Thank the Maker, I had thought the worst."

Aedan looked around, his eyes searching the hall. The Teyrna looked a little relieved, but still pensive, "Ser Gilmore, good to see you alive."

"Where's Father?" Aedan asked. "Have you seen him at all?"

"Yes," he replied, motioning to the other side door. "Your father left with the Grey Warden to try and find the two of you and Lady Oriana and Oren."

Lord Aedan and the Teyrna looked at one another, the relief obvious at hearing the Teyrn was last seen alive, but their frowns spoke of more ill news.

Aedan almost growled his words out, "He will not be finding them in the land of the living. Both Oriana and Oren have been slain."

"Sweet Merciful Andraste...," Gilmore shut his eyes at that. He had hoped that at least Lord Fergus's son . . .

"How long ago did they leave?" the Teyrna's words snapped him back to the present. There was no time to grieve and no time to gloss over facts.

"Not that long. Ten minutes at the most. Though, he was badly wounded when he came here," he tried to keep any despair out of his voice. "I'm hoping by now he's stopped searching, or the Warden has convinced him otherwise and he is heading for the servant's entrance. It's the only possible way out of here and I encourage the both of you to head in that direction. With luck, you'll run into the Teyrn there."

Before anyone could say more, a splintering sound cracked the air and they all looked towards the large double doors. They were holding and the men bracing themselves against the chairs, benches, and anything else they could throw in front of it were standing fast. The wood cracking upon the boom of the ram told them of the door's eventual fate.

Gilmore looked back at them both, even taking Aedan by the shoulder and turning him towards the door, "Go. Now. While there's still time."

They hesitated looking at him. Perhaps it was because he was staring death in the face, but he understood completely what their thoughts were from the looks on their faces. The Teyrna and Lord Aedan knew what he was about to do, just as they knew no amount of words were going to convince him to do otherwise. They hated that his duty put him and others like him into this position, but at the same time thanked them for the willing sacrifice.

Aedan briefly put his sword into his shield hand and silently held his hand out for Gilmore. He returned the gesture and grasped his forearm.

"Maker bless you, Ser Gilmore," the Teyrna's voice quivered with near tears as she said it.

"Maker bless us all," he responded. He released Aedan's arm and headed for the main doors to join the other men willing to stand by his side.

* * *

Kallian swiped her blade to the side to rid it of the coating of blood that had accumulated on it. Howe's men had been practically around every corner. So far she had been lucky and had gotten the advantage of attacking first every time. She was close to the kitchen now and could sense freedom from the death trap not far away. That was until she turned around another corner and came upon eight heavily armed men wearing Arl Howe's heraldry.

One of them bore a hammer almost as long as she was tall. He was clad head to toe in heavy plate armor and could still move in it all. Her heart became a vice as she knew this was way more than she could handle. She backed away hoping that they hadn't seen her yet, but it was too late. Two of them saw her and shouted, calling all their attention on her. Kallian bumped against a wall in her attempt to try and get away and it slowed her down enough for one of them to catch up to her and snag a bit of her armor. She screamed savagely, twisting in his grasp and slashed out wildly with her daggers. It was enough to make him let go, but not enough to give her space to get away.

Before she could contemplate what to do next, or think about how badly she was about to die, the man farthest away from her shouted again then gave a "hurk" sound that was not natural. She heard another shout and down the hall, passed Howe's men, there was another figure. The unmistakable clank of blade upon blade was heard and suddenly their attention was no longer on her. Including the two men closest to her. Without a second thought she dug a blade right into the neck of the one that had grabbed her and yanked him over in front of her as the pain paralyzed him. The second man seemed to have forgotten her and looking over the shoulder of her makeshift shield she saw why.

Duncan had managed to already cut through two of them. A sword in one hand and a dagger in another, he made short work of his opponents. None of his movements were wasted, every stroke and step was done for a purpose and none were able to get their blades near him. She had thought that he was something with the long two handed practice blade he had sparred her with, but she was wrong. That wasn't his forte, this was. She watched with both awe and a chill up her spine as Duncan never paused, his blades cutting a swath. Then he got to the heavily armed man.

She wasn't able to watch as her hostage tried to paw at her hand with the dagger still stuck in his neck. Kallian twisted the blade slightly making him stiffen and jerk, his breath coming out in gurgled bubbles as she apparently pierced his wind pipe. The movement caught the attention of the second man again who turned to face her. Kallian brought a leg up, placing her foot at the rear of the man she held on to, then let go of him, leaving her dagger embedded in him, and kicked him towards her solitary opponent. He was apparently no friend of the man as he braced for the impact, catching him with his shield before pushing him off and away to the ground. He didn't spare the man another look as he came at her fast. By then Kallian had gotten her dagger into her main hand and gritted her teeth as she parried each hit as best she could.

The man began to grin savagely. He was better trained with the blade and kept pushing her back down the hall away from Duncan. With her free hand she searched by feel into the small side satchel at her hip. It was one of the few little things she brought with her from home that she sought and she found the small cylindrical glass vial with her fingers. She didn't think she would use it so soon, but this was exactly one of those reasons why she carried it. She waited for him to make an appropriate move.

A simple lunge forward was what she was waiting for. Instead of backing away, she moved forward, parrying his sword, and got inside his reach, dropping her dagger as she did so. She thrust her torso forward to pin his shield and arm between them and grabbed to the back of his neck, then kissed him full on the mouth. His eyes widened in full shock, the confusion freezing him. In that second she slipped the vial down the back of his armor, then bit his lip hard. When he gave a startled scream she pushed him back and stepped several feet away.

The man licked at his lip, obviously tasting blood, and looked at her wide eyed. She gave a sneer and, hands empty, motioned at him to come at her.

"Crazy wench!" He hollered and came right at her.

Kallian dodged his sword swings, constantly backing up. When he had enough forward momentum, and he brought his arm on a downward arc, she moved in. She caught and grabbed is arm before he could bring it down, leaned back, planted a foot on his shield and pulled with a controlled fall backwards. She felt her leg muscles protest and she nearly didn't get him completely over her, his sword nicking the side of her face. He went with the momentum, falling forward, off balance and with a shout and a push of her leg, he finally went over her, head over heels. He landed with an audible "oof" and an odd sounding "crack", flat on his back.

She got to her feet as quickly as she could, spun, and backed away. He rolled to his side, cursing at her. Then the cursing turned into screams, the sword dropping from his hand as he tried to reach for his back. She could only imagine what it must of felt like to have the acid from the now broken vial eat through his skin. Wasting no time she ran forward, picked up his longsword and plunged it downward with her weight behind it. It bit through armor and flesh and his screams were replaced by quick inhales of breath. His mouth and eyes were both wide open and his hand was feebly trying to swipe at his own back when she left him for dead.

Running back, she picked up her dagger and came back around the corner in time to see the heavy armed man keel over and Duncan yanking a blade out of the smallest of spaces in between an armor joint. The man hit the ground with a crash and lay there, his leg twitching though life had certainly left him. They both looked around as the others lay dead or dying around them.

She panted as she spoke, gritting a smile to see him still standing, "Duncan."

"Good to see you alive," he said, almost way too calmly, but at least his own breath was labored as well. "Follow me. Have you seen any of the Couslands?"

He didn't wait as he headed for the kitchen and she followed at a scramble, "No. Just servants, these Howe blokes, and you. No one else."

As they got to the kitchen she nearly stumbled as he didn't head for the small door, but for the one leading to the larder. Confused, she followed him in and was about to ask why until she saw the Teyrn, sitting on the sacks of grain along one wall. He was hunched over his side, pressing a hand to the wound there, blood soaking the clothes around it and the sacks underneath him. His face was way too pale. The Teyrn looked at her, his eyes squinting a bit, then blew out a breath, wincing in pain.

"Kallian, I need you to watch the Teyrn while I check to make sure the path out of the servant's entrance is clear," Duncan was already heading out as he spoke. "When I come back, we head out."

"But Du-..." he left before she could say more.

She looked at the Teyrn then, almost uncertain of what to say. Kallian paced for a bit, glancing out the door as she neared it to look and listen for anything. Her mind kept going back and forth between the Teyrn sitting there bleeding and the people still back in the servant's quarters. Finally, the notion of doing nothing at all bothered her too much and she quickly started to dig around the larder. She found a table cloth, placed herself where she could still look out the door, took her dagger, and started cutting off strips of it. She cut another square of it and folded it several times. Gathering it all, she got herself in front of the Teyrn and handed him the folded cloth.

"Press this on it," she heard her own voice and it sounded so coarse.

He looked at her a silent second, looking almost uncertain, then took the cloth with a nod. He slid it over the wound, the cloth almost immediately soaking red. Kallian, without prompting, started to get the strips of table cloth wrapped around his midsection. She tied them as tight as she could, getting them to brace against the folded cloth over the wound. She knew it wasn't going to be enough. The cut was too deep and too wide. What she was doing was almost moot. Almost.

"Thank you," he uttered, his voice a far cry from its normal solidly spoken tone.

She shook her head, unable to look at him in the eye. She got the last strip tied, then sat back on her haunches. Kallian glanced back at the door worried, trying to calm her breathing. She didn't want to disobey Duncan and leaving the Teyrn by himself would be a risk, but she had to finish what she truly had set out to do.

"Your Grace," she looked up at him. "Will . . . will you be alright by yourself?"

His eyebrows furrowed a little as he looked back at her, "Why?"

She sat up some, "There are servants still back in their quarters. The way is generally clear, so I can get there and lead them here, to the way out."

His eyes searched hers, perhaps judging, or perhaps trying to see if she was telling the truth. For that moment, Kallian felt horrid, realizing that these were the only words she would be saying to the man. She'd avoided speaking to him and any of the Cousland family the majority of her time here, and it took this sort of death for her to speak to him. Maybe seeing part of that guilt in her face helped him decide and he reached forward and grasped to her shoulder.

"Get them out," he nodded. "Get as many of the servants out as you can. It will give me some solace to know there will be survivors. Don't worry about me. I will be fine in the meantime. If you're not back by the time Duncan gets here I will let him know what you are doing."

She placed her hand on the one he put on her shoulder, squeezed, and nodded, "Thank you, your Grace."

He shook his head slightly and gave an odd sort of pained smile, "No, thank you."

Kallian pulled away and raced out. Steeling her gut against the guilt she felt in favor of the determination the Teyrn just renewed in her. Even if there were Howe's men outside that servant's entrance she was going to take them there and kill anything in their way to get the people free.

* * *

_The smell... Oh Maker, the smell..._

Oralyn stood there, her hands clutched tight to the shawl that someone put over her shoulders. She couldn't pull her eyes off the bodies. There was blood all over and the smell of bowels loosening. Poor Ettal didn't even know what was coming and his face was stuck in the same look of surprise when the sword cut him open. The two men that Kallian Tabris had savaged were shoved into careless heaps, the ear of one of them hung off the side of his head. It was only kept connected to him by a strip of skin.

She knew people were trying to shake her and speak to her, but she couldn't hear them. Oralyn was no stranger to death. She helped see to the bodies of her parents after an illness swept through the Highever Alienage when she was little. She was by her grandfather's bedside when he passed away. Those deaths, though, were caused by sickness and old age and something she could prepare herself for. This was different. The dead bodies on the floor were living, breathing, healthy beings not more than an hour ago. Now, they and others through the castle were dead or dying in pain and anguish.

Oralyn just wanted it to stop. Wanted it to just all go away. She didn't want to believe any of it was happening. It had to be a nightmare and she just simply couldn't wake up. Vaguely, she understood that the others in the room were getting themselves ready with anything light enough to carry at a run. They were getting antsy as they knew the castle was burning. They wanted to flee right now and risk both the fire and Howe's men. They were saying that perhaps Kallian had left them all there to die. Oralyn was too paralyzed to say anything.

A pounding on the door made them all jump.

"Open the door!" the voice of a woman called from the other side. "It's me, Kallian! Open up!"

Oralyn's eyes were wide as they went to the door. She guessed that she also was thinking deep down that Kallian had abandoned them or died trying to get out. Neither had happened, and the people around her scrambled to get the beds and shelves they barred the door with out of the way. Soon as they got the door open she strode in, smelling of fire, sweat, and blood, moving with the energy of a whirlwind. She headed for where some of her things were still on the floor and gathered it all up, looping bag and container straps around her as she spoke.

"Let me lead the way. It should be clear, but there could be more about," her grayish blue eyes swept the room to look at them all. To Oralyn they looked so clear, almost shining. "If they come upon us, do _not_ panic. Stick to a wall and get out of my way. Move fast and listen to my orders. Is that understood?"

The others gave shaky nods and she gave them a confident smile. Without another word, she stood up fully, then grabbed Oralyn's arm, dragging her along. Oralyn stumbled a bit. She didn't realize that she felt so weak. Had Kallian not yanked her along she doubted she could have made her own feet move. Was her own outward appearance so pitiful right now that she was able to tell all this just by looking at her? There wasn't time to ask, only time to move.

There were more bodies along the way. Some servants, some guards, but most were Howe's soldiers. She tried to see who some of the guards and servants were, but Kallian gave no time for gawking. Before she knew it they were in the kitchen.

"Should we take some food?" someone said.

"We should, yes!" another replied and started to head for the larder.

"No!" Kallian suddenly snapped, running in front of him to block his path. She pointed at the servant's entrance. "There is no time. Just grab and go, damn it!"

She gave a look that booked no opposition. They all obeyed, only grabbing what they could and headed out the servant's entrance door immediately. Oralyn watched as Kallian reached back for the door to the larder, pause oddly as she looked at something within, then fully shut the door. Oralyn didn't understand and didn't have time to ask as Kallian came around again to grab her wrist and pull her along once more.

They followed the length of the small hall to the outer servant's entrance door. Outside was the castle vegetable and herb garden, the chicken coops, and a pen with their pair of milk cows. The animals were panicking, running about their pens. Socha, one of the human servants, had stopped and was yanking and kicking the fences down, letting the animals flee. Little consolation that a small bit of the castle's goods wouldn't be in Howe soldier hands or burned in the fire.

The others had ran ahead, but then stopped, backing away from the line of trees in the near distance. Kallian let her wrist go and raced forward, drawing a dagger as she went. Oralyn shook her head, not wanting to see more death, but Kallian slowed down again.

"Duncan!" she heard her say.

From the tree line the Grey Warden strode out, a sword in hand and his armor bloodied. He looked at them all, eyeing Kallian mostly. There was some silent exchange between them, then the Warden motioned to the trees.

"The way is clear," he said, looking at all of them. "Keep to the forest and stay away from the roads for some time. They will find this entrance soon so do not stop running. Now go!"

They began to move, but Kallian took Socha by the shoulder and pulled him to where Oralyn stood. Without a word she took her wrist, put it in Socha's hand and lightly pushed them both towards the trees. Socha didn't ask and simply pulled her along.

Oralyn looked back. The Warden and Kallian watched them go a moment, then to her shock they turned and headed back to the castle. Her eyes widened and she yanked her wrist out of Socha's hand, running back to them.

"Kallian!" she hollered out, making them both pause and turn to look. She gripped to her shawl, "Milady Kallian, what about you? Aren't you coming with us?"

Behind them a rear wall of the castle collapsed outwards. The fire burning brighter, the light made the clouds above glow an orange-red and it illuminated everything in that same color. In that light she saw Kallian blink a few times at her. She looked back at Duncan who said nothing and continued on his way back to the castle.

Looking at Oralyn again, Kallian gave her an odd sort of grin. It was so out of place for the situation, which made it almost frightening. However, there was a determined glint in her eyes.

"Duncan brought me here," she said. "Where he goes, so do I. We have some unfinished business in the castle."

Oralyn shook her head, not wanting her to go, but unable to say it.

"Now get yourself out of here," she called out as she started to jog off to catch up. "And Maker guide your steps!"

And with that Kallian Tabris ran. Oralyn felt Socha take her wrist again and she went when he pulled. But she couldn't stop looking behind her, couldn't stop wondering why she and the Warden would head back into the blood and death and fire, and couldn't stop wondering why she didn't posses the courage to do the same.

* * *

Bryce let out a slow small breath. He discovered that as long as he didn't breathe too deeply he could keep the wound generally closed. Not that it really mattered.

He understood why the Grey Warden recruit had stopped his people from entering the larder to see him there. She must have known that they would have insisted on getting him out, just as she also knew that moving him at all would have meant death. The elf had given him an almost apologetic look as she eyed him when she closed the door. He hoped that the encouraging nod he gave her was enough to let her know it was the right choice. His people would have been distraught to see him like this and fall apart if he died on them. They were not going to be able to afford that any more then they could afford time spent trying to carry him out.

It struck Bryce as strange that out of all kinds of people there were, it was an elf from the Denerim Alienage that understood this better than some of his best advisers probably would have. Duncan, it seems, was rather adept at picking them.

_Better than you at picking friends, Bryce Cousland,_ he winced once as the pain twinged again. _Or more correctly, knowing when one can be trusted._

He had known it. Bryce wanted to deny it, but there were signs for months coming from Amaranthine that said something was amiss. First, it was the word of ships coming and going with Tevinter mages and merchants, yet they couldn't get word of what goods were being traded. Then it was the robbery and murder of Bann Gatnin, a stalwart supporter of the Couslands, who had been visiting Arl Howe at the time of his demise. There were murmurings of the amount of supposed "house guards" that Rendon had added on with no logical explanation. Several freeholders and Banns who had sent word to Amaranthine for aid with minor bandit trouble received no responses, prompting them to send message to Highever instead. The levies, roads, and other basic foundries that were under Howe's charge had been neglected for far too long making one wonder where the funds for their maintenance was going. It all pointed to some hidden agenda.

Yet, he ignored the possibility that Rendon had aims to overthrow him. He fought and bled by his side to free Ferelden from the Orlesians. Worked, sweated, and toiled to rebuild much of what had been lost. Certainly there were moments where Bryce had to remind him to mind his words, and a time or two at court where he had to place himself in between Howe and another Arl when words had become heated, but overall he'd been a friend. He didn't want to think that the last thirty some odd years meant nothing to Rendon Howe. Unfortunately, it apparently did.

The appearance of the darkspawn hoard and the King's calling was all it took for Howe to decide to take action. Bryce was certain that had the darkspawn not shown he would have eventually tried something to overtake the Teyrnir. Simply assassinating Bryce wouldn't have been enough with both Fergus and Aedan very able to take the title. And even if Rendon found some way to kill all three of them without tipping his hand, Eleanor was strong and willful enough to retain the title and hold it long enough for Oren to age into majority. Rendon would have had to attack with a large enough force and likely cause yet another war between Amaranthine and Highever that could have lasted for years to come in order for him to truly try and take the Teyrnir. Provided King Cailan would have stood for it for long. So instead of all that, Howe took advantage of an unexpected situation and stabbed them all in the back in a time of dire need.

He started to lose hope that any sort of justice would be seen to or that any of his family was still alive, and then tensed as he heard voices and shuffling outside the door. One voice got closer, and then he could hear it clearly as the door opened.

" . . . hoped he'd be here, but let's quickly gather any food we can to- ... Bryce!"

Eleanor's eyes went wide with shock to see him there and she quickly ran over to him. Behind her quickly came Aedan and his heart rejoiced to see them both.

"There you are," he gave a weak smile, quickly burying the doubts he had. "Was wondering when you'd get here."

They were both quickly at his side, Eleanor tentatively reaching a hand to the bloody makeshift bandages at his side, "Bryce, all this blood. What happened? You should have gotten out of here while you could!"

"Was talking with the Grey Warden," Bryce tried to take careful breaths. "Howe's men came in, taking us both by surprise. One of them got me good. Then I couldn't leave without trying to find one of you. Duncan left me to rest here while... while he checked to see if the exit was clear. "

Aedan spoke with a look of worry he'd never seen on his face before, "He just left you here alone? Father, we need to get you out of here now."

Bryce shook his head and placed a hand on one of Aedan's arms as he tried to reach for him, "No, not alone... but you and your mother need to go. I am too injured to leave."

"Bryce, no," she placed a hand on his knee, her eyes pleading with him. "The servant's passage is just right there. We can flee together and find you healing magic!"

"Where? Highever?" he tried to smile, being sensible with his wife. "They'll look for us in the town proper and there's nothing else close. Besides, I can not even stand, let alone run."

"Then we'll drag you out," his son said.

He looked at him and saw Aedan's eyes flit down to the wound and back up to this face. Bryce knew that his son's heart was trying to deny what his eyes and mind were telling him. Knowing his fierce boy, he was going to have to hear it from his father in order to believe it.

"Not unless you want to leave bits of me behind, Pup," he said it both jokingly and affectionately to him. Aedan's shoulders sagged a little as the truth of the severity of his injuries was made real for him.

His wife didn't take to the attempt of levity, "Bryce! This is no time for jokes!"

"You're right," he nodded. "No time for jokes... but time for you to go. You need to escape... and you need to do so without me."

Eleanor's lips pinched and she shook her head. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes. Aedan opened his mouth to say something, but then another from the doorway spoke.

"I'm afraid the Teyrn is correct."

They all looked, Aedan's hand going quickly to the blade he sheathed at his back, but then relaxed when he saw it was Duncan. As he entered, his recruit came in after him, but she stopped at the door. She kept a blade in her hand and turned to keep a lookout. The Warden came to stand between his wife and his son and knelt to the ground along with them.

"Howe's men have not yet discovered the exit," Duncan continued. "But they will soon surround the entire castle. Getting past will be difficult the longer we wait."

Bryce silently thanked the Maker for bringing Duncan back in to the larder in time. He needed his aid in fighting against Eleanor and Aedan's stubbornness. Bryce wasted no more time.

"Duncan," he began. "You are under no obligation to me, but I beg you . . . take my wife and son to safety!"

Thankfully the Warden didn't even hesitate to answer, "I will, your Lordship. But . . . I fear I must ask for something in return."

"Anything!" Bryce truly didn't care now. He just wanted them out and safe, regardless of everything else.

"What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in this world," he said it so calmly that his words brought Bryce back down from his ever nearing panic. "I came to your castle seeking a recruit. The darkspawn threat demands that I leave with one."

"I . . .," Bryce swallowed and then looked at his son.

He was suddenly reminded of some of the harsher lessons he learned from his father and in his life. Of duty, of sacrifice, of swallowing one's pride, and knowing that there is always a greater cause then your own personal battles. He knew Duncan spoke the truth even though a part of him railed at the notion that any of this could pale in comparison to anything. This was his family, this was his life, and the ambition of a man he called friend was the cause of it all being destroyed. He wasn't going to have it and if sacrificing his son's future would see to things done _and_ aid in the greater cause, then so be it.

"I understand."

"What?" Aedan's eyebrows furrowed more past worry, looking between Duncan and himself. "No, you can't mean that. My duty is to take vengeance on Arl Howe!"

"And how do you propose to do that?" he looked at his son solidly. "You will need more then just you and your mother to survive this and see it done."

"I will take the Teyrna and your son to Ostagar to tell Fergus and the King what has happened, and they will be the ones to punish Howe," Duncan said, then also looked at Aedan. "A Grey Warden's duties take precedence even over vengeance, but if you join then I will see to it that the people who need to know of his treachery will be informed."

"Howe thinks he'll use the chaos to . . .," Bryce winced and gulped as the pain in his side flared, but he pressed on. " . . . to advance himself. Make him _wrong_, Pup. See that justice is done!"

Aedan started to shake his head, he could see he was trying to deny things. He knew he understood what it meant, but still didn't want to take the path. Bryce reached out and grasped to the back of Aedan's hand.

"Our family," Bryce said, speaking with as much conviction as possible. "_Always_ does our duty first. You know this. The darkspawn _must_ be defeated. If they are not, then justice will be moot. You must go. For your own sake _and_ for Ferelden's."

Aedan looked at him for the longest of moments. He saw the look in his eyes go from worry and denial to understanding and determined. He placed his hand over Bryce's own, squeezing it, "I will, Father. For you."

"Then I offer you a place within the Grey Wardens," Duncan said to Aedan. "Fight with us."

Aedan nodded and Bryce felt a little more at ease as he spoke, "I agree."

"We must leave quickly then," Duncan stood as did Aedan.

"Bryce," Eleanor spoke almost softly. "Are you... sure?"

He looked at his wife, giving a reassuring look, "Our son will not die of Howe's treachery. He will live and make his mark on the world."

Eleanor looked at him, uncertain at first, then a look of resolve etched on her face.

"Darling," she began, looking at Aedan, "go with Duncan. You have a better chance to escape without me."

"Eleanor . . .," Bryce gaped at her. They all looked at her wide-eyed. Even the Warden recruit snapped a look over her shoulder.

"Hush, Bryce," she shook her head slightly at him. "I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time. But I won't abandon you."

"Mother, no," Aedan stepped closer to her, kneeling again. "You can't sacrifice yourself like-"

"Your place is with the Grey Wardens," she interrupted. "Mine is with your father. At his side . . ." Eleanor looked at him again, saying the same words she did when they spoke their wedding vows, " . . . to death and beyond."

Bryce felt his heart swell. He knew her stubbornness wasn't going to allow any of them to talk her out of it and he loved her all the more for it.

"Go, Pup," he said to Aedan. "Warn your brother. Know that we love you both. You do us proud."

"I . . ." Aedan croaked out, obviously still warring with the instinct to stay and protect. Finally, he managed to speak, "I love you both."

There was an audible, almost thundering cracking that came from somewhere else in the castle. The Warden recruit looked in to the larder again, urgency in her voice.

"Duncan!"

"They've broken through the gate," Duncan grabbed Aedan by the scruff of his armor, hauling him to his feet and barked out in command like fashion. "We go. Now!"

He watched as they left, his son almost stumbling as he went. Quietly he uttered, knowing he wouldn't be able to hear him, "Go with the grace of Andraste and the guide of the Maker . . ."

* * *

Eleanor gave a slightly relieved sigh watching her son go. It wasn't going to do any of them any good for them all to die here. She had known that regardless of what she had actually said, Eleanor would have been able to keep up with them to Ostagar. Even hold her own. But when she thought of leaving Bryce behind she found that she wasn't going to be able to. Both her heart and her mind refused. She knew her boy, her little pup, was strong enough to face what was to come on his own. The mother in her was willing to let Aedan go, the wife in her was not about to leave Bryce behind.

When she looked at him she found that he was already looking at her. The strength he was trying to show their son faded to something softer. It was a look reserved for her. The one he only showed to her in those long nights when he needed to be weak. When he needed to not be a Teyrn and just a man and a husband. She reached up to touch the side of his face gently, then squeezed his knee.

"I will be back," she nodded her head reassuringly. "I'm just going to make it more difficult for them to get through."

Bryce closed his eyes a second, then nodded. Eleanor got up and headed into the kitchen. She worked fast. Getting the kitchen door closed she overturned a nearby table to brace against it. Then she pushed the cabinet over on its side so it blocked the servant's entrance door. Her final act was to take the two barrels filled with lamp oil and tilt them over so the oil spilled all over the floor. She grabbed one of the lit oil lamps from overhead and went back to the larder.

She set the lamp on the floor near the door, then gathered her quiver and bow. Positioning herself to have a clear view into the kitchen she notched her first arrow and waited. She could hear through the door the harsh and chilling sounds of men shouting, screaming, and fighting.

Then she heard Bryce speak softly, yet clearly, "Have I told you lately how beautiful you are to me?"

Eleanor shot a slightly incredulous look at him and was about to retort that it wasn't time for such talk. Then the reality hit her. They didn't have any more time to speak of. So instead she gave a wan smile and shook her head.

"No," she replied. "I believe you have been remiss in that the last few weeks."

"You'll have to forgive me, then," he gave a soft smile. "I've had . . . much on my mind lately. So . . ."

He took a careful breath and continued, "You're more beautiful to me now then you were when we first met. Even more beautiful after the birth of our first son . . . or our second. Though . . . it's a near thing."

"Oh, Bryce . . .," she shook her head, still smiling, and looked out the door again. There were times that he knew how to drive her to speechlessness.

He spoke again, but this time his voice was a little more coarse, "I . . . I'm sorry it's come to this, my love . . ."

She looked over again. His head was down and he clutched to the bloodied cloth at his side. She went over to him then, gently kneeling on one knee on the sacks next to him. Putting a hand on the back of his head, she leaned forward as he raised it, and she softly placed her forehead at his temple. He raised a hand up to caress the side of her neck. They remained that way for some seconds.

"We had a good life and did all we could," she whispered. "The rest is up to our children now."

A noise in the hall outside the kitchen caused her to glance over her shoulder, then she looked back at Bryce. He looked up at her, knowing what she had to do. Eleanor leaned in, lovingly kissed her husband one last time, then strode over to the door, resetting her bow.

She was going to make it difficult for them to follow her son and demonically difficult to get to Bryce. Eleanor didn't call herself a battle maiden for nothing, after all.

* * *

_**A/N**: I hope this one isn't too long for folks to read. Again, I couldn't find an easy break. Would very much like feedback on this one. Good, bad, indifferent, nitpicky, what have you. I appreciate the comments and interest so far._


	8. Scattering to Safety

_**A/N: **The first section was inspired by some early DA:O fanart from Aimo (aka Irma Ahmed). Those of you familiar with her work might know which drawing I speak of. Also, for those who don't know, Ser Gilmore's full name is Roland Gilmore. "Rory" to his friends._

_**A/N:** (5/9/2010) Punctuation, grammar, and some sentence phrasing changed._

_**A/N:** (6/18/2010) Small puntuation changes.__  
_

Part 8: Scattering to Safety

They reached the crest of the hill, stopping a moment to catch their breath and gain their bearings. Since the castle they hadn't paused at all, Duncan leading, Kallian always bringing up the rear. The elf had her hands upon a nearby tree, bent over and leaning heavily on outstretched arms, filling her lungs full of air. Duncan pressed a hand to his side, breathing deeply, his fist clenched around the sword still in his hand, and he looked off in the distance. Aedan pressed his hands on his knees, his head down, sweat dripping from his forehead. He shut his eyes as he took in much needed air.

Aedan's mind was muddled. So much, so fast, and he couldn't keep up. Everything he had in life, everything that was solid, was stripped from him in an instant. None of it felt real. Opening his eyes, he turned his head to look in the same direction as Duncan.

Suddenly, his legs gave out on him and he fell to his knees. From the vantage point on the hill he could see the upper battlements and higher spires of Cousland Castle. Tongues of red flame raged across the entire length of the structure, and smoke billowed upwards to join with the thickening clouds above. A small section of the castle flared up and yet more smoke floated upward. Aedan shook his head, almost disbelieving.

Those he cared for and loved the most were gone. Father, Mother, Oriana and Oren, Nan, Mother Mallol and Brother Aldous, Rory and Oralyn. All the servants and protectors of the castle. Even Angus was gone, for Maker's sake. Then there were victims of ill timing and circumstance. Lady Landra, his friend Dairren, . . . and Iona. All of them, gone. It seemed almost little consolation that his brother at least was still out there, provided Howe hadn't already seen to assassinating Fergus as well.

His eyes stung and he convinced himself that it was because of the sweat getting into them. Aedan's heart knew better. Feeling his shoulders hunch over, his gut tightened against the sob that threatened to escape. Wiping at his forehead and eyes, he feigned clearing it of the sweat and silently wept.

* * *

The clouded sky above was getting brighter by the time they stopped. Duncan told them they'd rest next to a large fallen tree for ten minutes before pressing on again. Kallian practically collapsed on the spot. Aedan sunk to the ground more slowly, putting his head back on the tree, and closed his eyes as he rested. He heard rhythmic crunching as Duncan stayed on his feet and walked about, no doubt keeping an eye on the surrounding area.

Aedan numbed his mind of any thoughts, too exhausted to want to think of anything. Concentrating on the sounds around him and calming his breathing he centered himself as best he could. Unbidden it came at him again. The smell of smoke and blood, the screams and images. They threatened to assault him. That was until he felt something nudge his knee.

Aedan jerked his head up and snapped his eyes open, the images were broken into and were replaced by the sight of the elf, squatting near him, offering over a decent sized wineskin. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her. She didn't look at him in the eye.

"Rinse your mouth out," she uttered in that odd, uncultured accent, then added. " . . . helps with the smell . . . and the taste . . ."

Wondering when she had time to find the wineskin, he vaguely recalled that she had lagged behind for some seconds before exiting the castle herself. Aedan took it without a word, popped the cork stopper, and poured some wine in his mouth. He spat the first mouthful to the side, tasting and smelling wine instead of copper and smoke. Taking another pour he drank it this time, letting it coat his throat. Silently he handed the wineskin back with a nod. He couldn't utter a thanks.

She didn't seem to mind or simply didn't care. Calling over to Duncan she offered it up to him. He came over and took it without question. Doing the same as Aedan had with rinsing, spitting, then drinking, he handed the wineskin back to Kallian and spoke.

"I believe we're some ways East of the castle. We shall head Southeast. Skirt the lands between Soldier's Peak and the road till we get to the Hafter River. From there we'll follow the river South, then head straight across the Bannorn to Lothering. From there-"

"Wait, wait," Aedan interrupted. "Heading Southeast will take us closer to Amaranthine. Shouldn't we be heading away from Howe's territories?"

Duncan shook his head slightly, "By heading towards them we are taking the safer route."

Aedan sat up straighter, unable to stop the spike of sudden frustration he felt, "And how do you figure that?"

"From the looks of things, Arl Howe used the majority of his men to attack the castle," Duncan looked at Aedan as he explained things calmly. "This means that any search parties sent out will be coming from the direction of Highever, following what ever trail they can find."

Aedan motioned a hand Westward, "Then shouldn't we be heading Southwest to catch up with Fergus? It will take some time for them to find any trails, we'll have enough time to avoid Howe's men. We can easily catch up with my brother and get him to turn our forces right back around."

"No, no," the elf spoke and stood up. The various packs and containers were temporarily left on the ground. "Duncan be right. Heading for your brother is going to be exactly the thing they'll expect any survivor to do. Howe is probably already getting his men to watch the road your brother travels and we'll get caught like rats in a trap."

"More then that," Duncan added before Aedan could respond. "We do not want Highever's forces to turn around. The army gathering at Ostagar to fight the darkspawn will already be suffering a setback with the men from Amaranthine not showing up. If Highever also does not show then the King's army will not be large enough to survive a full bore attack."

Aedan clenched his jaw and looked away. He knew Duncan was right, but his gut instinct to get to Fergus was harder to fight then he thought it would be.

Duncan came forward, got on one knee, and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I understand your want to find Lord Fergus as soon as possible, but as a Warden the darkspawn take priority. I swore to your father I would get you safely, to Ostagar, and I will. When we get there we will tell the King of Arl Howe's treachery. Take solace in that and the fact that we stand a good chance of running into your brother _at _Ostagar."

Aedan took a deep breath then let it out slowly. He looked at Duncan again and nodded once solidly. The Warden patted his shoulder twice, then shifted to sit beside Aedan, resting his back upon the fallen tree.

"Then rest your feet while you can," he said. "We've a long journey ahead of us. Once we make Lothering, we head for Ostagar."

* * *

Aedan ended up leading the way. Knowing the forests and lands around Highever well enough, he could get them to where they needed to go without the need for roads. It made for slower travel, but as a result they hadn't heard or seen sign of anyone. It was past mid-day and something of a drizzle had started.

"Kallian," he heard Duncan say. "Did you manage to grab any food on the way out?"

"I did . . . well I hope me did," she replied. "Grabbed a little blindly, so either I nabbed a wrapped bundle o' wood chips or a wrapped bundle o' jerky. Either way the taste might be the same. 'old up a moment."

They stopped and Aedan turned to watch. It hadn't quite fully occurred to him until then that she was carrying quite a bit with her. She had squatted down to remove the wineskin to get to the pack just underneath it. As she rummaged he noted that she had a scroll case, various bags, one of those rigid leather satchels meant to carry glass vials or fragile goods. There were also two longswords strapped to her back, one of them was wrapped tight in cloth for whatever reason. All that was along with the pair of daggers strapped to her hips and a smaller hip pouch at her waist. Aedan thought that either what she carried was rather light or she was stronger than she looked. Kallian was generally able to keep up with them, though always lagged hindmost. He took one look at her thin arms and decided it was the former.

"Here," she handed up a cloth and twine wrapped bundle to Duncan. "Hopefully there's something good in there. If not, I got four apples and a loaf o' bread. Stale, but eatable."

"Why are you carrying all that anyway?" Aedan asked, trying to sound mildly curious, but was certain the suspicion crept into his voice.

Kallian seemed to shift where she squatted and only glanced up at him once. After some seconds she uttered, "It's me things..."

He frowned a little bit, now leery, "And it was worth your life to slow yourself down weighted with it all?"

"Worth a few days worth of jerky, at least," Duncan interjected, holding up the now open bundle slightly. "But all this will not be enough to last us the whole trip. We will need to find a place we can stop for supplies. Any ideas, Aedan?"

Catching the bit of jerky that Duncan lobbed over at him, he paused in thought. It didn't pass his attention that Duncan had addressed him by just his first name. There was no "Lord" before it or "my lord" to replace it. Somehow it stung. Not that he was so egotistical to say that he should only be addressed as such, but it was a tie to his family. One he was going to have to start living without as a Grey Warden. The question also brought to his attention the simple matter of making it to Ostagar alive instead of suspecting his new traveling companion.

"If we're going to be going through the Arling of Amaranthine," Aedan paused again, trying to recall what he knew of the area. "We can take some of the North Road and cut wide around the Knotwood Hills. There should be a little village there we could get supplies from. It would be on the way to the Hafter River as well if I remember the maps right."

"Good," Duncan said, handing the bundle back to Kallian while holding on to a bit of jerky for himself. "We will head for that village first, but we will not be staying there. Camping out in the wilds will have to be the way of it until we get much farther South." He started walking ahead, "We should be safer once well into the Bannorn."

Aedan was about to follow, but then stopped as Kallian was still gathering bag straps over her shoulders. He watched her a second as she stood, then he gave a sigh. Coming forward he held out a hand just as she was about to get the wineskin over her shoulder.

"Here," was all he said before she took almost a startled step back.

She looked at his hand, then up at him, "Whot?"

"Let me take that and the pack with the food," he stated simply, mildly irritated that she was acting as if he was about to lash out at her. "You shouldn't have to carry all that."

The elf shifted again as if uncomfortable, her eyebrows furrowed and she didn't look at him again, "Well, whot if I want to carry all o' it?"

Aedan frowned mildly. He wasn't certain if this was some odd way of her to make up for things or if she was just being obstinate. It wasn't as if he'd forgotten her earlier treatment of him, but they were stuck traveling together and possibly relying on one another for survival. He was certain she was aware of that. At least he hoped she was aware of that. There was much he didn't know about the woman and he had his reasons for being suspicious. However, Aedan had never been comfortable with not carrying his share of the load and he wasn't about to let it start now. Instead of arguing the point, he snagged the wineskin right from her hand.

"Hey!" Kallian tried to snag it back but he got it out of her reach fast enough and slung it over his head and shoulder before she could protest further. Her eyebrows remained furrowed, but at least she was looking at him then.

"The food pack as well," he said, holding out his hand again. "If you would, please. I'm not so out of it that I can't share the burden."

That elicited a frown from her and her eyes narrowed just slightly.

"Fine then," she uttered and then unslung the pack.

She held it out to him by the strap. He took it, but before he could say more she marched off after Duncan. Aedan got the pack and wineskin adjusted over his armor, shaking his head slightly, the jerky clenched in his teeth. As he headed off after them he couldn't help but think that this _was_ going to be a long journey.

* * *

The rains had begun in earnest. It was a constant light drizzle when it wasn't a solid downpour and they had to live with getting soaked. Cloaks apparently were not something Kallian had managed to have in her packs.

They spent their nights without campfires and huddled two at a time under hastily made lean-tos. One of them always stood watch and it was still too early to risk having a firelight seen. Even if they did risk it, the dampness of the air and the wet forest wood would have made it difficult to make and maintain a campfire. So they made due and traveled in somewhat silent and soggy misery.

They became even more cautious when they reached the North Road, counting themselves lucky to have not run into anyone yet. The caution was unwarranted and they came across no one on the short leg of road they had to travel. They made it to the outskirts of the little village without incident and none too soon.

"Thank the Maker," Aedan uttered. "Would have had to decide how to split the last bit of jerky between the three of us tonight otherwise."

Duncan chuckled a bit as he stopped, "Not quite a debate I would have cared to have."

Aedan watched him curiously as he slipped a hand behind the front of his armor, digging for something. Pulling out a long thin pouch, he shook it a bit and it gave the familiar jingle of coin. He noted that the elf immediately perked and looked over at Duncan at the sound.

"Here," he tossed the coin purse at her which she caught easily. "Get us about two weeks worth of traveling food. Some waterskins, tents, and cloaks, if possible. If they have anything in the way of healing poultices or bandage kits, get those as well."

Kallian arched an eyebrow and Aedan could tell she was starting to bristle. Her accent was thicker as she spoke through a snarl, "Be there anythin' else ya want me ta fetch ya, Ser, while the two o' ya . . . I dunno . . . toss back a pint at the local tavern?"

Duncan gave a bit of an exasperated sigh, "We won't be going into the village with you, Kallian."

"Ya won't?"

"We won't?" Aedan added, also just as surprised.

"We won't," Duncan repeated. "We run too much of a risk of being recognized with all three of us going. No offense meant, but I think Kallian would have been beneath Arl Howe's notice. You and I, Aedan, are a different matter. He would get our descriptions out to his men, for certain. Besides, do you think you can scratch out the Cousland heraldry on your armor enough for it not to be spotted?"

"Ah," Aedan blinked once and looked down at his armor. Etched into the metal at the center of his chest and again on the vambraces were the symbols of a laurel wreath, resembling a pair of wings. He winced a bit, feeling a little silly for not having thought of it, "Even if I had the time and tools for it, I don't think I could bring myself to do it."

Duncan smiled slightly at him, then looked at Kallian again, "I am not calling on you to do this for any other reason than that you are the only one we can rely on to do it. Can we count on you, Kallian?"

She looked down at the ground, tossing up and catching the purse in her hand lightly a couple of times. Finally she looked up and shot something of a cocky grin.

"Can you count on an unwed sailor to find a brothel?" she tossed and caught the purse one last time before tucking it away. "Do I meet you back here or . . . ?"

"Meet us South of the village," Duncan answered her unspoken question. "We shall wait for you there."

"Right you are!" she turned to go, but then stopped. "Eh, wait."

Both he and Duncan looked at her expectantly. Saying nothing for some seconds, she just scratched the back of her head.

"How do I . . .," Kallian then gave an embarrassed smile. "How do I tell which way be South? Can't tell with the sun being behind clouds and all."

Aedan and Duncan exchanged glances. Duncan seemed somewhat amused. Aedan sighed a bit and walked over to a tree, knocking his knuckles on it.

"Just let the moss show you the way," he said.

She blinked a few times, "Whot . . . Toss it in the air and follow where it lands or something?"

"What? No," Aedan tried to keep the laughter out of his voice. For someone who walked with such gruff and bluff she seemed to know so little. "Moss always grows on the South side of trees. Didn't you know that?"

"O' course I didn't," she gave a bit of a frown again, crossing her arms. "We got all o' one decent sized tree in Denerim and the only moss that grows on it be in the upper branches. So pardon me for not bein' a soddin' woodsman."

Aedan glowered a bit and huffed in slight frustration, "Why do you- . . . look, you asked a question and I answered. Can't you-"

"Enough," Duncan interrupted. "Save your words for later. I would like to get away from the village before nightfall. Kallian, see you South of the village."

"Right," she mumbled and tromped off towards the cluster of huts and buildings in the distance.

He and Duncan also started on their way. It wasn't until they were well out of earshot that Aedan spoke.

"Do you really think we can trust her, Duncan?"

Just as he stepped over a large root, he glanced back at Aedan, "You doubt her honesty?"

"I just lost both family and home to a man my father called friend," Aedan tried to keep the bitterness out of his words. "I'm not sure who I can trust right now."

Duncan was silent a moment before speaking again, "I can very much understand that. One could hardly blame you for thinking that way. But do you think you can place Kallian in the same category as Arl Howe?"

"I don't really know," Aedan admitted. "It is why I'm asking. You did just give her a purse full of coin and an opportunity to flee in any direction she pleases. She could easily just buy herself some supplies and head right back to Denerim. Or worse, head to Highever and tell Arl Howe which direction we went in exchange for a reward. Not to mention everything she's carrying. I don't quite recall her showing up at the castle with all that."

Again, Duncan was silent for a time and only gave a cursory glance back at him, "I suppose it does look suspicious and it is possible she could take those actions. However, we will just have to wait and see for ourselves what she will do, won't we?"

His eyebrows furrowed, "That doesn't quite help settle my mind."

Duncan seemed to chuckle, "Then think on this; how will your opinion on her trustworthiness change if she does do as asked and comes through for us?"

Aedan frowned and didn't answer. He was more than willing to doubt her, but even if he was proven wrong he wasn't certain if that doubt would go away. Howe's actions did much to damage who he thought he could and couldn't trust. Even with Duncan he deep down felt it was wrong that it took a "deal" to get him to help bring word to the King of Howe's treachery. Aedan understood what Duncan's duties truly were, but still . . .

"As said," Duncan continued when Aedan didn't answer. "We will just have to see."

They found a spot under a large tree that sheltered them from the drizzle and waited there. The minutes seemed to stretch on longer than necessary. Aedan was a bit impatient, but as time dwindled on even Duncan was beginning to worry. That was until a figure came trundling down the incline that lead to the village. It was Kallian, laden with almost more than she could carry and wearing a wide grin. It was apparent she had seen to herself as her damp hair looked combed, her face clean of the mud and crusted blood stains, and some healing poultice was placed on her right cheek.

"There you be," she said as she neared. "I come baring gifts."

"Seems you did a little more than just gather gifts," Duncan replied, motioning to her face.

Her grin never left, "Couldn't be helped. The storekeeper's wife went all mother hen on me. Insisted on cleaning up me face and seeing to some bumps and scrapes."

"Why would that be?" Aedan asked, still feeling wary.

She handed over one of the leather cloaks she had draped over her shoulder to him, "Because it seems you, milord, got friends in places. More correctly your family does."

"How do you mean?" Duncan asked, helping her free her arms of some of the items.

"Well, first, it seems the folks here have already gotten word about what happened in Highevah."

"Already?" Aedan said, pausing in the middle of fastening the cloak over his shoulders.

"Already," she nodded once. "They heard just this morning. The shopkeep's son happens to be a messenger that rides missives atween Denerim, Highever, Redcliff and back again. He was in Highever when everything happened. Seems Howe's blokes were telling the people that an 'unfortunate accident' has occurred and all the Couslands and everyone in the castle died in the fire."

"What?" Aedan blurted.

"You heard me," her grin faded fast and she suddenly looked as if she was about to spit. "That sodding coward didn't even have the guts to own up ta the murder, can you believe it? Complete soddin' crock, I tell ya. Even a stray mongrel dog will piss on new territory when it's done another dog in."

Aedan fully frowned, slowly resuming fastening the cloak. He wasn't certain what he was more shocked at. The news of how Rendon intended to cover his crimes or the vehemence in which Kallian spoke. There was no mistaking a fully disgusted tone when he heard one and, unless she was an extremely good liar, her emotions seemed genuine. He supposed he should have taken offense that she just compared his father to a mongrel, but he also understood that it was probably just her way of talking. Probably. At the very least her words eased something in him and he knew he could likely trust her as far as who's side she happened to be on.

To use the fire as a convenient excuse for the death of his whole family and everyone in the castle seemed so blatantly pat that it made him feel ill. It wasn't the fire that slit his nephew's throat or put a blade into his sister-in-law's back as she tried to protect her son. It wasn't the fire that gutted his father or took the life from Nan and Aldous. For anyone to think that not a single living soul made it out of the castle alive due to a fire was preposterous. Such a thinly veiled reason being used by Rendon Howe caused that anger to surge up and he bit down hard on it.

"And what do the villagers think of this?" Duncan asked, prompting Kallian to continue.

Some of her impish grin returned, "Most of them think it be a crock, too. The shopkeep, his wife, and their son certainly do. Folks in this village and the local Bann feel they owe your father more than they do Arl Howe. Seems they had bandit trouble most of this year. Kept sending messages to Amaranthine for help and never even got a peep back from them. They got fed up and sent one message to your Dah and he got men over here like that." She snapped her fingers, grinning wider again, "So these folks don't think so highly o' Howe."

"That doesn't explain why they were apparently friendly to you," Aedan pointed out, still trying to absorb it all.

"I was just getting to that," Kallian gave him a short look then started handing him a bundle or two as she spoke. "They were eyeing me all suspicious like at first, but I overheard what they were saying about Howe being a sot 'n all that."

Aedan shook his head a little. He was right, it really was just her way of talking. And Howe was indeed "being a sot".

"So, I took a little chance and eluded that the . . . uh . . . 'friends' I had waiting for me were of," she looked directly at Aedan then. " . . . noble quality?"

"Kallian, that was risky," Duncan set her with a look.

She immediately put one hand up in the form of surrender, "I know, I know, I'm sorry, but it ended up paying off. I never said any names, but they were sharp enough to guess I had a Cousland with me. Once they did, the shopkeep sold everything to me at a hefty discount and his wife fussed over me and kept calling me 'you poor dear'. His son were all but ready to give his horse over to me for you to use . . . for free."

"You didn't let him. . .," Aedan's question trailed off and he looked worriedly up the incline half expecting the shopkeep's son to show up with a horse.

Kallian shook her head, "Drew them up short afore they went that far. Oil lined cloaks be one thing, a free horse be a bit much. Would o' drawn too much attention in me direction and prolly would get them into some trouble. " Then mumbling, she added, "And I didn't want that happening to them."

Aedan suddenly had to reassess Kallian again. It wasn't something he thought she would even bother caring about. Someone colder and more heartless would have taken the horse, but she hadn't. She wasn't just concerned about the trouble it would bring her, but the trouble it would bring helpful strangers. Maybe he was completely wrong about her and was wrong to suspect her.

"Well, let us not add to that potential and leave this area quickly," Duncan said as he got the new cloak on. "We're in luck that the word they are spreading has everyone from the castle dead. However, his direct men will still be on the hunt so I would rather not push it."

Both Kallian and Aedan gave silent nods of agreement and they quickly went about dividing the equipment. They began setting on their way again until Duncan stopped and held his hand out to Kallian.

"The coin purse," was all he said.

"Oh," she gave a slightly nervous laugh. "Right."

She found it among her things and handed the purse over to him. He hefted it twice, paused, then jingled it one last time. With something of a sigh and a bit of a stern look he wordlessly held his hand out in her direction again. She looked like a child caught with her hand in the cookie tin. After digging into a side pouch, she handed over a few more coin. Duncan shook his head in slight exasperation, tucking the coin into the purse before shoving it behind his armor again. Aedan half expected for him to give her a lecture, but then he spoke.

"You should not have mentioned about the hefty discount," was all he said to her before heading off. He had given her a flat look, but his voice carried a hint of amusement. Kallian kicked at the ground lightly.

They both followed Duncan, but Aedan had to speak, "Did you really just try to filch coin off of Duncan?"

"I didn't filch," Kallian sounded indignant. "I was jus' . . . borrowin' it."

"Borrowing it?" Aedan was dubious.

"Holding on to it, then," she gave a sniff. "That way Duncan wouldn't have to give me coin when we got to the next village. I was saving him the trouble."

Aedan looked at her incredulously, then uttered, "Complete rapscallion."

He didn't offer her the chance to retort and sped up to catch up with Duncan. He had to reassess his reassessment of her. Yes, he could likely trust her to be on their side, but he'd probably be better off eating his own boot instead of trusting her with a box of his mother's jewelry. There were certainly worse qualities a person could possess, but it was a little disturbing how flippant she was with it. Then Duncan instructing her instead of reprimanding her for stealing from his own pocket made him wonder if he had really just joined a band of warriors or a den of thieves. As the man himself mentioned, Aedan was just going to have to wait and see. At the moment, however, he was seriously having his doubts.

* * *

What should she say? What could she say?

"Hey, sorry for being a right _ass_ to you earlier. It only took the death of your family and the destruction of your whole life for me to see the error of my ways. No hard feelings though, right? Right?"

_Right,_ she groused at herself. _That will go over just so wonderfully. It's half a wonder he's not slugged you yet. Should of given you a good solid backhand by now, at the least. You deserve about as much._

It really shouldn't have meant anything to her. His loss was his loss, inflicted upon him by another human noble, and it only impacted upon her because she was stuck traveling with him and possibly being hunted for it. That is what the callus side of her might have said before.

Coming to Cousland Castle she was more than ready to assume the worst of all of them. More than ready to have her opinion proven oh-so-right. Leaving the castle, she never felt so small.

For only a scant few days was she able to get to know the people that served there. From them, she was able to find out about the Couslands and learn, to the disappointment of her ego, that they treated their people well. Stubbornness didn't let her accept that. Treating the situation with a certain amount of disdain, she kept her self-righteous thoughts on the forefront knowing she wasn't going to be there much longer. She held on to the little spike of hate she had for Aedan Cousland like a warhound with lockjaw. She treated the castle like a box to root around in, ignoring the fact that the place was a home. Not just for the nobles, but for the servants as well.

Then all in one night, everything came apart at the seams.

Kallian was no stranger to human cruelty. She saw it almost every day in one form or another aimed at her kind. It was always unfair and it was always wrong, but it wasn't cold slaughter in the name of ambition. It wasn't flat out, pig-faced betrayal. Kallian felt herself shake a bit in anger at the thought and at the same time laughed at herself for it. It really shouldn't have meant anything to her, but somehow it did.

She wanted to take it all back. Wanted to take all her words and actions away. Wanted to have been able to pay more attention and maybe - just maybe - chance across a whisper or a clue of the death to come. If not that, than at least gotten to have known the Teyrn and Teyrna better. To be able to feel she could say something, anything, at the end to convince Eleanor Cousland to not stay behind. Tell her she didn't have to lose her life protecting her son like her mother had done protecting her. Add her voice to Aedan's and say that losing one parent was more than enough for anyone to bare with.

But she couldn't and she didn't. Wishing and praying wasn't going to change any of it.

It was a source of frustration and she wanted to make amends, but didn't know how to go about doing it. Aedan spoke when something needed discussing, but otherwise he was silent, always carrying a bit of a glower either at the ground or in the distance. Not that she could blame him for not being chatty. Losing what he did could make even the most jovial of men crack. However, it didn't give her many openings to talk about it. The few times they did talk her frustration would take over and she'd treat him coarsely. Then shortly after, she'd kick herself again. She didn't doubt that her sniping was the other reason for his silence, and the quiet was driving her nuts and made her think of things she didn't want to. So she did exactly the same as when she left Denerim.

This time she pestered Duncan with questions about Ostagar and Lothering. It lead to talking about the Korcari Wilds, the Chasind, the Old Imperial Highway, and other such things. Little by little as the days went on Aedan would become part of the conversation. Sometimes he'd ask a question himself or would make an idle comment. Kallian hoped the talk would help with getting his mind off of things. Maybe ease that obvious suspicion he had of her and make it easier overall to talk with him.

It seemed to be working. She suspected that Duncan picked up on what she was attempting to do and was more than happy to be mentor again. Eventually the stints of quiet were becoming less awkward. Kallian wouldn't have labeled it companionable silence, but it was a step in the right direction. The tents and water resistant cloaks also had helped with improving their overall moods. Now well into the Bannorn, Duncan judged that making campfires was safe to do. The rains had even let up, giving them a brief reprieve.

They had found a small copse of trees to camp in for the night. Duncan had left with the waterskins to get them refilled with fresh water from where ever he could find it. This left she and Aedan to their own devices, but they'd developed enough of a routine that the time wasn't spent just shifting uncomfortably in one another's presence.

"How did you get that?"

Aedan uttered the question at her as she was fixing up her tent. Kallian quirked an eyebrow as she looked over at him. He was kneeling by the fire, encouraging its flames with a stick.

"How'd I get what?" she asked.

He pointed at his own cheek and motioned his head at her, "That cut."

Kallian immediately frowned. The shopkeep's wife had told her the cut on her cheek was likely to scar and the woman kindly lamented that it was a shame it happened. As far as Kallian was concerned, she was glad it was the worst of her injuries. Being that she could have easily ended up hurt far more severely, she was perfectly fine getting off with just a single scar.

She first ran a finger lightly over the scabs on her cheek, then got back to finishing her tent.

"It be nothing," she mumbled.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, "That isn't 'nothing' and it doesn't answer my question."

"I said it be nothing," she said in irritation. "You don't want to be knowin' anyway."

"I do want to know," he said, rising to his feet, irritation also slipping into his voice. "And why can't you answer a question plainly?"

She snapped a look at him, glowering as she spoke, "Cause I be thinking that _maybe_ you don't want to be talking about that night so soon. That _maybe _picking at your wound won't do you any good right now. I know you ain't stupid so you can guess well enough on your own what happened. So just leave it already."

With that she turned her back to him and squatted down. She hammered on the tent peg with the rock in her hand, probably a little harder than necessary. He was silent again for some moments after that. Again, she started to mentally kick herself until he uttered another question.

"Is he at least dead?" his voice was subdued. "The one that gave it to you, I mean."

Pausing in her hammering, she pondered not saying anything. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly before answering.

"Yes," she said, still keeping her back to him. "He was dead within the same minute his blade cut me."

"Good," he uttered after his own pause. "It's something, at least."

Kallian glowered in irritation. She couldn't understand why he would even care. So she scarred her face, so what? It wasn't as if he had a reason to be concerned about it.

"Better than nothing," he continued in that subdued tone. "With everything gone I-... maybe I shouldn't pick at my wound, as you say, but sometimes a person can let it fester and make it worse. What was it that Nan used to say? Better to bleed it out instead of letting infection set in."

Kallian wondered why now of all times for him to do this and why not to Duncan instead of her. It wasn't as if she were the best person in all of Thedas to provide council. Considering how moronic she had been, she should have been the last person he poured his grief out to. Regardless, she let him speak and just hoped that Duncan would show back up any second.

"Everyone's gone and I just can't ignore that. I can't block it out of my mind that they were leaving none alive. None. Old Aldous didn't even have a weapon in hand when they killed him," Aedan's voice was starting to strain but he kept it in check. "It didn't matter to them if they were old and infirm or just a six-year-old child. They were not spared. Everyone from Father all the way down to the newest of our servants are just . . . dead."

Still squatting near the tent peg, she chanced a glance back at him. He stared at the fire with a mixed look of disgust and despair. Kallian felt her gut twist a little.

"Not all of them," she found herself uttering. "Some of the servants got out."

It was his turn to snap a look over at her, "What?"

"Some of the servants got out," she repeated, standing up and facing him as she spoke. "Took the entrance out of the kitchen like we did."

Aedan's eyes narrowed slightly and he shook his head lightly, "Y- ... you speak the truth of this?"

Kallian crinkled her nose and frowned, "O' course I'm speaking the truth! Maker's Left Nut, why would me lie about it? What you think me and Duncan were coming back from? A ruddy picnic? We saw Oralyn and some o' the other servants off into the woods. Can't be guaranteeing that they were safe after that, but they at least got out o' th-..."

As she spoke, Aedan's face went from dark and dubious to elated. She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence as he came forward, giving a laugh, and put his hands on her shoulders, shaking them slightly.

"Oralyn? You got Oralyn out?" The look on his face was almost painfully bright. Like that of a child that had been lost and just found his mother again.

"A-aye," she answered, lightly pushing his hands off of her, and then dusted her shoulder off. He didn't seem offended by it and paced all the way around the fire, full of excited energy. "Oralyn came looking for me when them sods started attacking. I got her and most o' the servants I was bunking with to the kitchen."

Aedan almost sputtered at her, "W-why didn't you mention any of this before?"

She scratched the back of her head, "Well, it ain't exactly come up in conversation, you know. Little too busy running for our lives and all that."

He paced around a bit more, laughing again, and then thrust his fists into the air, "Thank the Maker, Howe _didn't_ destroy it all!"

Feeling the corner of her lip quirk up, she tried to suppress it and failed. Kallian didn't want to admit to anyone that she had witnessed him crying before. Not even to herself. Yet she saw it when he tried to cover it up by rubbing a hand over his face. It reminded her of when her father had grieved for Mother. Trying to be strong and not let his daughter see him cry. In this case, there wasn't anyone left Aedan had to be strong for and he only hid it for pride's sake. Being the one to inform him that all wasn't lost made her feel a little less useless. Silent as he had been, it was almost comical to see him like this. He looked - and Kallian hated phrasing it this way - like a normal human being.

Aedan let his hands drop to his sides and he approached her again, "I don't even know how to thank you for this."

"No need for that," she uttered. "Just . . . did what I thought needed doing."

"What you thought needed doing?" Aedan repeated, smiling and shaking his head. "You don't even understand. Here I was trying to find something, anything, to say that Howe didn't get away with it all and here you are telling me that more than just us had survived. I was even getting to the point of being ridiculous with it. Telling myself things like . . . 'At least the fire would destroy most of it so they couldn't take much' or 'Chances are the family blade was turned to slag and wouldn't fall into Rendon Howe's hands'. Grasping, I tell you."

"The . . . um . . . family blade?" Kallian crossed her arms, feigning curiosity, and reflexively gulped.

Aedan waved a hand dismissively, "It's just a sword that's been in my family for centuries. Passed down from Teyrn to Teyrn since the days of King Callenhad. We kept it in the treasury so hopefully Howe's men didn't get in there to sack it. That's besides the point, though."

She was only partially hearing Aedan after that. He was going on about how he cared for Oralyn in the past and something about his parents disapproving, then something about sticking it to Howe in small ways till justice was seen to. It was all in one ear and out the other for Kallian and she nodded periodically to show she was listening. He was fairly much rambling and all she could think about was the family blade.

Just then Duncan reappeared with freshly filled waterskins. He looked about the small campsite with a slightly arched eyebrow, "I had thought the two of you would have finished setting camp by now."

"Ah," Aedan gave a slight grin. "Sorry, Duncan, but I suppose we got a bit distracted. Kallian just told me something that . . . well, I hadn't known that both you and she got some of the servants out of the castle. I thought we three were it."

"No, indeed," Duncan said while handing them each a skin. "Though I had only made sure the path into the woods were clear. Kallian saw to it they made it out of the castle safely. I can't take credit for that."

Aedan quirked a wider grin and looked at her again, "Then that definitely means I owe you."

Averting her eyes from them both, she shifted uncomfortably and rubbed the back of her neck with a hand, "You don't owe me a damn thing. Weren't doing it for any reward."

"All the more reason _to _give you a reward," Aedan countered.

Turning back to her half finished tent, she said nothing and shook her head. Right now all she felt she deserved was a swift kick in the arse. She had no way to explain that to either of them right now.

"Reward or no, getting the servants out was an act worthy of praise, Kallian. There is no shame in feeling pride for that."

She refused to respond for fear of what she might utter at them. The tent suddenly became her main concern.

"Looks like she's going to be stubborn about it, Duncan," there was a tone of amusement in his voice.

"Seems so," Duncan said, sounding equally amused. "Perhaps we can convince her otherwise later. For now, let's just finish setting up camp and look to getting some rest."

* * *

Some hours later Kallian kept her cloak wrapped tightly about her as she paced about the fire. Duncan was asleep and she had the first watch. Aedan had awoken part way through his slumber and teetered off to relieve himself somewhere. This was when she decided to do it.

Taking the cloth wrapped sword, she snuck into his tent, unraveled the cloth, and placed the blade on the pack he was using as a pillow. Her heart thumped in her chest the entire time and even now it pounded away. Kallian didn't know what his reaction was going to be, but she'd take it. She knew she deserved some sort of reprimand and he would have to be the one to give it.

He tromped back, giving a half-asleep nod of acknowledgment at her. She responded with a short curt nod of her own and watched him duck back into his tent. The seconds stretched on for what felt like hours. Wondering if he somehow hadn't noticed it, she jumped a bit when the flap on his tent was pushed open. His eyes were wide as he looked right at her.

Aedan came out of his tent, the sword he held by its scabbard, and walked right up to her with the blade held before him. It shined in the firelight, the etchings of the Cousland heraldry clearly seen on the pommel. Kallian shifted nervously as he stared at her, not even bothering to look him in the eye. He seemed to be struggling with his words, his mouth open as if to speak.

"How," he finally managed to breathe out. "How . . . did you get this?"

Hours before hand she had thought how exactly to go about answering that very question. Lying about it would have been easy. All she would have to say is she found it on one of Howe's men. At first, that was exactly what she had planned on using as an excuse. Guilt over turned the decision. The last thing Aedan Cousland needed right now was more deception.

"I . . . I took it from the treasury," she stated clearly.

"Y- . . .," he fully blinked and his eyebrows furrowed. "You did what?"

"I didn't bloody stutter," she answered tightly, clenching a fist. "I planned on putting it back, but then the attack happened and- . . . "

"No," Aedan interrupted, shaking his head. "No, you couldn't have. We always have at least one guard on duty near the treasury."

"_Your man _at the treasury were fast asleep that night," Kallian gritted her teeth, not understanding why Aedan would deny things when the proof was right in his hands. "He were snoring loud enough that he didn't hear me rustling about."

"Then what about the lock on the door?" he demanded. "Only my mother and father had keys to that door."

"Like a lass can't pick a lock?" she tossed her hands up, looking directly at him in agitation. "It were a nice little complex tumbler, but I worked it well enough to get it loose. And the lock on the chest were old enough that all it took was a quick pop to get it open. For something that held something this important you would think to make it more secure!"

Aedan gave an incredulous laugh, "So now you blame us for making it so easy for you to _steal from the family treasury_?"

"Is everything alright?"

They both looked over as Duncan came out of his tent, looking around with a blade in his hand.

"Nothing that time in gaol or a possible beheading wouldn't cure," Aedan said flatly, glaring at her again.

Duncan relaxed as he saw there was no immediate danger, but quirked an eyebrow at his statement, "A beheading?"

The Warden's eyes went to the blade in Aedan's hand, and then to Kallian. At first she thought to look away, then thought better of it. She straightened her spine and kept her head up.

"She stole from the treasury, Duncan. It's apparently how she recovered the family blade."

Both of Duncan's eyebrows raised, "Kallian, is this true?"

"Yes, ser," she responded. Her lips pinched and she continued to keep her head up. "Took it right from under a sleeping guard's nose, I did. I intended to put it back the night Howe attacked."

Duncan gave a sigh and the light of disappointment in his eyes hit her in the gut.

"Sure you were," Aedan's voice dripped with sarcasm and he paced away a bit. "All our guards always slept while on duty."

Kallian felt her lips curl into a frown. Shifting where she stood, she spoke uncertainly, "I would have figured something out . . . usually do . . ."

"Aedan," Duncan said. "You have my apologies- . . . "

"_Don't_- . . .," Kallian blurted out, but then held her words back. When she saw that both of them were looking at her to finish, she continued. "Don't . . . go apologizing for something I did. I know when I should ruddy own up, so I be owning up."

Duncan gave another small sigh, then looked at Aedan, "Well, there you have it. What do you intend to do now?"

Pacing forward and back a few times, he hefted the blade in his hand once or twice while looking at it. Giving a derisive laugh, he looked at Kallian, and held the sword out before him.

"You know what I'm going to do?" he took a deep breath and let it out on his words. "Absolutely nothing."

Kallian blinked, "Whot?"

He laughed again, this time more wryly and lowered the sword, "I must be going insane, because even though I should be rightfully and fully upset at you, I can't be. Whether you were aware of it or not you managed to return something to me that my father once held."

Aedan worked his jaw a moment, then spoke with raw emotion edging just underneath. "I didn't think that this heirloom was going to be important to me. Not compared to the lives that were lost. When I saw it laying there . . . ," he took a deep breath before continuing. "It wasn't destroyed and it wasn't in Rendon Howe's hands. I can retain something of my family's and give it to Fergus when I see him. So, even though I should be knocking your _head_ off your shoulders right now, I'll be thanking you instead."

Kallian shook her head, feeling fully confused. This wasn't what she was expecting.

"Go ahead and knock me sodding head off," she said. "No one will blame you for doing it."

Aedan then smiled - _smiled_ - and shook his head, "You are a strange, strange woman. You know you could have lied about it to me? Say you found it off a Howe soldier or something. That's what I was hoping you were going to say. You had to go and be truthful about it. You had to make it difficult."

"B-but," she hated the fact that she was stammering. "That wasn't . . . W- . . . "

"I'm letting it go," he stated, then started to walk away uttering. "It's likely what my father would have done."

"Aedan," Duncan started, but Aedan raised a hand as he glanced back.

"It's alright. Just still hot under the collar. Going to walk it off," with that he continued away from camp. "I'll be back."

It wasn't until he was out of sight that Kallian slumped to the ground and sat. She stared at the dark, dumbfounded and completely unsatisfied.

"I think," Duncan began. "That you fairly much already know most of what I could say to you right now."

She nodded her head, drawing her knees to her chest, and muttered, "Would it be strange of me to ask you to give punishment, since he won't?"

"Strange, perhaps. Almost honorable. However, your request is unnecessary. Truth be told, since you are both Grey Warden recruits the only one that does have the authority to give punishment here is myself."

Blinking a few times, she looked up at him, "Then . . . why did you ask him what he was going to do?"

"I was testing his judgment," he looked at her, somehow managing to look both stern and compassionate at the same time. "Rendon Howe's actions have skewed his vision. I needed to see how far his sense of fairness may have fallen. It is not as far gone as I had initially thought."

"You used me as a test for him?" Kallian felt as if her head was spinning.

"You provided the fodder yourself, dear girl," his eyebrow arched just slightly. "I simply took advantage of the situation. This does not let you off the hook, however. You won't receive full punishment until after you have become a full Grey Warden, but do consider yourself on parole. Another slip like this will only make it worse for you in the long run."

She nodded her head again and hugged her knees.

"I understand," she uttered and remained shrunk into herself.

In the ensuing silence she heard Duncan give yet another sigh and move off towards his tent.

"For what it is worth, Kallian, you are capable of the goodly act now and again. Just do not let it get overshadowed by your immediate angers and wants. What is past is past and if you want anything good to come out of all of this, you need to start to look forward."

He said no more and ducked into his tent, leaving Kallian alone to stew in her own thoughts.

* * *

Aedan sat on the ground with a tree at his back and the hilt of the family blade pressed to his forehead. The tip of the sword sheath pierced the ground and the metal felt cool on his skin. It calmed him and his breathing had finally become even. Both hands were grasped about the sword's handle and he kept his eyes closed.

He recalled everything he was told and remembered about the blade. Of how it had been in service of the Kings of Ferelden for four hundred years. Of the numerous men and women in the service of the Teyrn of Highever who were knighted by it. He remembered the day when Rory had become "Ser Gilmore", the family sword tapping Rory upon his shoulders as his father knighted one of his best friends. Then there was the time when he sat with Fergus, seeing the blade for the first time, and listening to his father tell of how they kept the blade hidden during the Orlesian occupation. Generations of Couslands have worn the blade in both peace and war. Now, it was unexpectedly in his hands.

Kallian had thrown him for a loop. Every time she'd show that she could be trusted, she'd do something else to prove that she shouldn't be. She had honor in her, but at the same time a disregard for what objects found their way into her pockets. He dreaded the thought of asking her what else she might have managed to pilfer from the castle treasury. Aedan didn't want to pile on more reasons to hate her because he couldn't. Much as he tried, he couldn't.

Perhaps it was because he honestly couldn't put Kallian in the same category as Rendon Howe. Compared to him, Kallian was at the most, petty. She stabbed in small ways like a grumbling, petulant child who was dissatisfied with her situation. Sneaking away with a bit of bread when she was sent to bed without supper. Sticking her tongue out at her parents, but only when they weren't looking. Running away to play when she was supposed to be studying. In a way, Aedan could almost empathize.

He couldn't empathize with Arl Howe. It wasn't as if Aedan didn't understand why such betrayals happen, but what he couldn't understand were the minds of those who would betray their allies. How anyone could let self-centered greed motivate one to commit mass murder was emotionally beyond his comprehension. Loyalty and duty were to be put above everything else. Loyalty to King and Country. Duty to protect those both above and below your station. That was what he was taught. Rendon Howe had apparently missed those particular lessons.

Aedan opened his eyes and pulled away from the metal of the hilt to stare at the sword.

Ultimately, yes, he could trust Kallian Tabris. Not with an open coin purse, perhaps, but with other greater matters he could likely trust her to do the right thing. There were still things about her he didn't understand and hopefully he'd learn more in time. That couldn't be done, however, if he kept hisself closed off and paranoid. If he were to get anywhere further from this point on, he was going to have to trust those about him again.

When he got back to camp he saw her sitting there, her cloak wrapped about her, sulking as she stared at the fire. Inwardly he had to laugh. She was a petulant child.

She looked up at him as he approached. Aedan sat down on the ground next to her to also face the fire. He drew his knees up and propped the sword on his shoulder. Remaining quiet for some moments, he didn't say anything until he sensed her starting to fidget.

"Why did you take it?" he asked in curiosity. "I mean, it's not exactly the easiest item to stow away or sell off."

She pulled her cloak up to cover her face just beneath her nose and gave a muffled mutter, "It were shiny."

Aedan arched and eyebrow and gave her an incredulous look, "That was it? It was shiny? You didn't think that maybe it was a little bit more than just a pretty trinket?"

"As you can tell, me weren't exactly thinking at all," her words were still muffled by the cloak, but she spoke clearer.

"No, indeed," he looked back at the fire. "If I were you, I would have taken this little golden statuette my father got from Orlais. It was gaudy, but it was gold with a few jeweled insets. You could have sold that off without risk of it being traced to the family or us even caring it was missing."

A glance out of the corner of his eye saw that her eyebrows furrowed fully and she glared at him a bit, "If this be some sort o' attempt to make nice, then you can just stop."

"I am not attempting to 'make nice', I'm just making conversation. Besides that, do you want me to remain angry at you forever?"

Kallian shifted under the cloak, her nose crinkled, "Yes."

"Well, sorry, that won't happen."

She popped her head up, "And why not? I know I would be, so do . . . something, will you? Shake your fist in anger or . . . or . . ."

"It's not going to happen," he stated flatly. "Remaining angry at you isn't going to help our situation any. So, I'm still letting it go. You've proved your worth by being truthful and that's satisfactory enough for me."

Kallian sat silent, scowling at the fire. Slowly, the scowl eased. Finally she spoke, her words were hesitant and certainly not filled with the bile and hatred it had when they first met.

"Didn't do it for your satisfaction, . . . _m'lard,_" she flitted a glance in his direction.

If he wasn't mistaken, she looked apologetic. He suspected this was as close to a "sorry" as he was ever going to get from her.

"I didn't think you did, _Lady_," Aedan gave a light grin. "So you'll have to remain unsatisfied with no reprimands coming from me."

She snorted, "You wouldn't have been able to reprimand me anyway. Acordin' to Duncan since we be Grey Warden recruits, he's the one that decides if I get punishment or not."

Aedan blinked a few times, "I . . . hadn't thought of that."

"Neither did I."

Both of them got to staring at the fire then.

Kallian mumbled out, "We be in a bit o' a pickle vat, ain't we?"

"We be," Aedan mumbled in turn. "We be."

They didn't sit in what he would consider companionable silence, but it was a step in the right direction.


	9. Eagle Sighting

_**A/N: **What's this? Yes! A part only a smidgen under 7000 words long. Wordy Girl is trying not to be so wordy. Our heroes are finally at Ostagar, too. Apologies to any Glory seekers. You'll know what I mean when you see it. Also, I appreciate the patience. I know I'm not as fast as a lot of others around here so I want to thank everyone who has me on alert. Thanks! __Also, I kinda feel this chapter is admittedly not one of my best. Comments always welcome._

_**A/N:** (5/9/2010) Punctuation and some sentence phrasing changed for smoother reading._

_**A/N:** (6/18/2010) Added a single line of dialogue to fill it out better._

_**A/N:** (7/22/2011) Changed a particular part regarding Aedan's thoughts on Cailen to match chapter 13.  
_

* * *

Part 9: Eagle Sighting

"Did them Tevinter blokes always build things so soddin' tall?"

Kallian asked the question as they were almost at Ostagar. Aedan glanced back at her and saw she had her head craned upwards to look at something. He did the same and could then spy the high tower that thrust up into the sky beyond the wall they walked next to.

Duncan gave a slight chuckle, "I suppose they did."

"Sort of like Fort Drakon back in Denerim," she added. "They built that one too, right?"

"That would be correct," Duncan nodded. "They built the Circle of Magi's tower on Lake Calenhad, as well. Very similar in design to the one here and taller."

"Foof," she huffed then muttered. "Ain't compensating for anything there."

Duncan chuckled again and while Aedan appreciated the joke, he remained silent. He would have laughed, but they were now almost upon Ostagar and his mind was too heavy with the thought of informing the King, Fergus, and everyone of what happened in Highever.

Kallian had heard word in Lothering that Highever's forces had passed through just two days before, so he knew his brother had made it. Considering the winding path they had taken across the Bannorn, Aedan was mildly surprised they were not too far behind them.

They approached a massive stone archway, the soldiers posted there were not surprised to see them. Having come across scouts earlier on the road, they had identified themselves, and the scouts in turn ran ahead to let the camp know. Not more then a few seconds after passing the arch did a man in finely made golden armor, with two heavily armed knights, came forward with a hand extended towards Duncan.

"Ho there, Duncan!"

Duncan in turn extended his own hand and clasped the man's forearm, "King Cailan, I wasn't expecting-"

"A royal welcome?" He replied and quirked a smile. "The scouts had reported you were arriving with recruits in tow. I thought it best to just greet you myself. Was beginning to worry that you were going to miss all the fun."

"Not if I could help it, your Majesty."

"Good," he smiled more and looked as if he was going to say more, but then his eyes shifted over to Aedan. "Eh, do pardon if I happen to be jumping the hedge a bit too early here, Duncan, but . . . Aedan Cousland, that is you isn't it?"

"It is, your Majesty," he held his hand forward just as Cailan did the same and clasped his forearm.

"I'd say it's good to see you again, and it is, but I do confess I'm a little confused," releasing Aedan's forearm he looked between he and Duncan. "According to your brother you would be remaining at Cousland Castle and your father would be along with Arl Howe and the forces from Amaranthine any day now. Has this changed?"

"In a manner of speaking, it has," Aedan said. His voice felt horribly tight and there must have been some look he had in his eyes as King Cailan quickly sobered. It was then that Aedan looked at Duncan, unable to bring himself to say anything.

"We bring some dire news," Duncan said. "Would it be too much to ask for a moment for us to speak in private?"

The Warden's eyes shifted to King Cailan's knights and over to the other nearby guards. Cailan nodded, understanding the gesture.

"Let us walk for a bit, then," he said and walked back further into the massive ruins.

He lead them to an area not far away. It looked like it might have been an open air courtyard at one time. Cailan ordered his knights to make certain they were not disturbed and they stood guard out of earshot.

"I'm not going to like this, am I," Cailan's words were more a statement than a question.

"I am afraid not, your Majesty," Duncan clasped his hands behind his back. "But first, you already know Aedan Cousland. The one next to him is Kallian Tabris. They are both my newest Grey Warden recruits."

"Both?" Cailan mostly looked at Aedan, but inclined his head to Kallian when she gave a partial bow. "Then . . . am I to assume that Teyrn Cousland won't be coming here to lead his men?"

Duncan took in a deep breath as if to gird himself of the words he had to speak, "Teyrn Cousland and his wife are dead, your Majesty. Arl Howe has shown himself a traitor and overrun Cousland Castle."

"What?" King Cailan's outburst caused the knights on guard to glance back at them. He immediately lowered his voice again, but the shock was still there. "How did this happen?"

Aedan had his arms crossed and he felt his shoulders tense as Duncan told the King everything. The lies that Rendon Howe had told and the slaughter that his men brought. By the time he was done, Cailan had gotten to pacing back and forth, a gauntlet covered fist hiding the deep frown he wore.

"It was by fortitude and luck that we three escaped," Duncan motioned to he and Kallian. "If we hadn't, Arl Howe would have killed us and could have made up any story he wished. It would have left you and the rest of the nobility none the wiser."

The King stopped his pacing and lowered his fist from his mouth. His eyes searched the ground as he spoke, "I can scarcely believe this. Taking advantage of the situation while we fight for Ferelden itself. How cold and cruel does a man have to be to- . . . How did he think he could get away such treachery?"

"By killing any and all witnesses," Kallian replied.

They all looked over at her. Aedan was surprised that she had spoken up and mildly surprised that there was nothing of her accent present.

"At least, no witnesses who were not in the arms and armor of Amaranthine. Even when a person surrendered they ran them through," she spoke clearly with her hands clasped behind her back. "They were not planning on leaving anyone alive."

Aedan looked at Cailan, "She has the right of it, your Majesty. They were not taking any hostages." He felt his own jaw set a little. "Not even Oren."

The King shook his head slightly, "Oren? Isn't Oren . . ." Suddenly his eyes widened, "Fergus' son? But he- . . ."

"Lord Fergus and Aedan are the last of the Cousland household, your Majesty," Duncan said. "And, obviously, the forces from Amaranthine will not be showing. We will have to deal with the repercussions of it in the upcoming battles. I recommend we immediately set a new strategy as soon as possible."

King Cailan stood there a moment, clenching his fists slightly, and then nodded his head slowly at Duncan.

"I understand," he looked at Aedan then and came over to him, putting his hands on his shoulders. "You have my word that as soon as we are done here I will turn my armies north and we will bring Rendon Howe to justice. I swear it."

Aedan let out some breath that he was unaware he'd been holding. The King's reassurance made him feel as if a weight had been lifted.

"Thank you, your Majesty," Aedan nodded solidly once. "But, tell me, do you happen to know where my brother is?"

Cailan seemed to wince, "You wish to inform him of things yourself?"

"I would," Aedan frowned. "Not . . . that I'm looking forward to giving him the news."

"I don't blame you," Cailan squeezed his shoulders once before letting go. "Unfortunately, he's not at camp. We were going by the assumption that your father was going to be along shortly, so we had Fergus sent out to an area in the Wilds where we needed scouts. I can have a messenger sent out, but it may be a couple of days before he gets back."

Aedan was about to agree to it, but then a thought occurred to him.

"That won't be necessary," he said a little hesitantly. "I'd much rather have Fergus concentrating on the enemy in front of him, rather than the one in Highever. If the area needs scouting, then let him scout. I can give news to him when I hear he's returned."

King Cailan's eyebrows furrowed a bit, "Are you certain about this, Aedan?"

He nodded, but it was Duncan that spoke, "As a matter of fact, your Majesty, it may be a blow to the men's morale if we inform them all that Teyrn Cousland is dead. You know that he was well liked among the Banns and freeholders. We may have to keep this silent until the battle is decided here against the darkspawn."

Cailan gave a short sigh, "I am not fond of the thought of keeping such a thing secret, but I suppose you are correct. At the very least we can inform Teyrn Loghain of the situation. He should know and he'll certainly want an explanation as to why Amaranthine isn't coming."

"Teyrn Loghain is here?" Aedan asked and almost on reflex he stood up straighter.

"Of course," the King nodded, then got to looking a little prideful. "Though we've not had to use much in the way of his strategies so far. We've won three battles here easily enough."

"Three?" Duncan said. "So another occurred while I was away?"

"Yes, and I have to say, Duncan, your men are stalwart fighters all. They held the line without losing a single man."

"They have to be stalwart, your Majesty," Duncan replied. "Against the darkspawn there is no other way to be. How long ago was this?"

"Five days ago, and they did the same as before," Cailan explained. "Attacking in numbers and then retreating when they lost too many. With no sign of an Archdemon at all. I'm beginning to wonder if this is really a true Blight."

Duncan's eyebrows furrowed in worry, "As I had said before, your Majesty, not encountering an Archdemon right away does not mean this isn't a Blight. And it's a bit concerning that they are retreating. Darkspawn are not exactly known for running away just for losing too many of their number."

Cailan was about to respond when the voices of his knights and some other armored men speaking with them began to rise a bit. From what Aedan could tell, they wore the heraldry of a yellow wyvern rampant, the heraldry of the Teyrnir of Gwaren, Loghain Mac Tir. The King gave a bit of a sigh.

"It looks like Loghain sent out a search party for me," Cailan said and then looked at them all. "We'll speak more later about all this. I should get back and inform him of the news. Aedan?" Cailan held his hand out again to him which he accepted, clasping his forearm once more. The King put a hand upon his shoulder as well. "You have my condolences and I truly wish we were meeting again under better circumstances. Perhaps we can get together later and catch up on old times."

"Thank you, your Majesty, perhaps we will."

The King looked over at Kallian as he released Aedan, "I do apologize that we didn't get to speak, Kallian . . . Tabris, was it?"

Her hands were still clasped behind her back and again she lacked any of that accent, "No need to apologize, your Majesty. The news you needed to hear was a little bit more important then that."

Aedan was finding her words and actions to be very odd, but then realized something. He glanced over at Duncan and, sure enough, he also had his hands clasped behind him in the same manner. With some amusement he saw that she was imitating Duncan's behavior and speech.

"Regardless," Cailan gave a light smile. "I hope to converse with you in the future."

"I look forward to it, your Majesty," she inclined her head in a polite manner to him.

"Duncan, I shall see you later," he nodded his head at them all. "Farewell, Grey Wardens."

Aedan bowed and saluted appropriately as he left, Kallian copying the motion.

"I am going to have to leave the two of you now," Duncan started and they gathered about in a small circle. "I need to check in with the other Wardens and gather some information before speaking with King Cailan again about strategies."

"The way the King be talking it seems the fight be in the bag already," Kallian crossed her arms, her accent magically reappearing.

"True," Duncan said, apparently unfazed by her linguistic flip flop. "But he is assuming much. He thinks the Grey Warden legend alone makes the armies invulnerable. This definitely isn't the case."

"Is it true what you said, Duncan," Aedan asked. "That darkspawn don't normally retreat?"

"Not normally, no," he added a bit hesitantly. "Unless there is a darkspawn present with significant intelligence."

"Significant?" Kallian repeated. "Always heard darkspawn were just brutal and savage sorts. Not intelligent at all, just evil."

"The various darkspawn carry various levels of intelligence," he gave a mild frown as he explained. "Some are even capable of using magic. Those more intelligent are able to . . . order the others to fight tactically rather than simply in hoards."

Aedan frowned a bit himself. He had also been under the impression that darkspawn were just mindless creatures that attacked indiscriminately. "I take it an Archdemon possesses that sort of intelligence?"

"I can not speak from experience," Duncan said, then motioned with a hand for them to begin walking, which they did. "All the old records in the Grey Warden archives would suggest that they are. But . . . I know that they are, just as how I know it in my very soul that this is a Blight."

Aedan and Kallian glanced at one another, neither were used to hearing the worried tone in his voice or seeing that sort of consternation on his face before. The moment passed and Duncan continued.

"Which is why we need to settle our strategies as soon as possible. We also need to see to the Joining ritual without delay."

"A hot meal might be nice, first," Kallian said, interlacing her fingers and putting her hands behind her head. "But you mentioned this Joining thing before, Duncan. Now can you tell us what it be about?"

"As I said before, Kallian, you will know more in due time."

He heard Kallian grumble. Being curious himself he inwardly grumbled as well. Duncan had held up to his part of the bargain, it was now Aedan's turn to see to his. Duty would dictate that he would become a Grey Warden and he could now put his efforts into that. So, he very much wanted to know more about the Joining ritual. Kallian had been prodding Duncan about it since he mentioned it several days ago, getting the same result every time. The Warden-Commander of Ferelden could be a dodgy fellow when he wanted to be.

"You are welcome to explore the camp," Duncan continued. "Just do not leave as I will be setting the two of you and the other recruits to task very soon. You should find the other recruits at a site set up for us near the noble's tents. It is easy enough to spot. There should also be a Grey Warden around by the name of Alistair. He was in charge of minding the recruits while I was gone. If you happen to see him before I do, tell him to get all of you prepared to head out."

Kallian gave a long suffering sigh, "So no hot meal, then?"

Duncan chuckled, "Not till later, I'm afraid. Though I have to agree, food does sound good."

Coming to a stop at a set of stairs that lead down to a stone bridge, Duncan turned to face them, "Mind that the both of you need to remain silent on what happened in Highever. You may inform Alistair if you wish as well as any other Grey Wardens you may meet. Just let them also know of the reason for the secrecy. I know it may seem distasteful, but- . . ."

"The army's moral takes priority," Aedan interjected. "I understand. King Cailan knows, as will Teyrn Loghain. I'm certain my father would be satisfied with that for now."

Duncan gazed at him a moment, then nodded, "Good." He then looked at Kallian, "And remember that you are still on parole. You need to be on your utmost behavior here."

She lowered her arms and crossed them, "Whot? I been on the up and up. I'm clean. Even refrained from picking up a trinket or two in Lothering. You should be proud."

Duncan's eyebrow twitched up, "But you still thought about it."

Kallian held up a finger as she made her point, "Thinking about it and doing it are _completely_ different things. They can't put you in jail for just thinking it."

Her words made Duncan sigh and he actually muttered, "So this is what Genevieve went through."

"Pardon?" Aedan asked.

"Never mind," he replied. "Just behave yourself, dear girl. I will see you both later."

With that Duncan turned and left. They followed suit after watching him go for a while, walking at a much slower pace. Aedan felt the tension in his shoulders ease. There must have been some subconscious thought in his mind he was unaware of that had him worried King Cailan would do nothing. Even worse, the thought Cailan might of even ordered the massacre himself had occurred to him. It was illogical and only born from reading of such betrayals in old history tomes and had nothing to do with Cailan himself. They were paranoid thoughts that he could now let go of. All that was left was to inform Fergus of things.

He had spoken the truth when he said he didn't look forward to passing on the news. It wasn't as if he didn't have the time to ponder how to phrase it all to Fergus. There were a couple of sleepless nights that were caused by such thoughts. The weight of the information is what he hesitated to hand over. It was the sort that could crush and change a man completely. There was no choice in the matter, he had to tell him, but he wanted to hold off the eventual anguish for as long as reasonably possible.

"Your father might be satisfied, but what about you?" Kallian asked after a while, breaking the silence.

Aedan thought about it before answering, "I don't think I'll really be satisfied until Rendon Howe is dead. Guess in the meantime I'll have to vent my grief on the darkspawn. I just hope Duncan allows me to go with King Cailan's armies when he goes north."

"If he does let you go, I'd like to go along with."

He quirked an eyebrow and looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "Why?"

"Cause I want to see him get his comeuppance. Why else?"

"Didn't think it mattered to you what happens to a noble," he spoke in a slightly jesting tone.

"Only the ones I ain't met yet," she mumbled, then suddenly crossed in front of him. "Andraste's Tits, would you look at that?"

Aedan flinched a bit at Kallian's rather lewd use of Andraste's name, then looked at what she was gawking at. He only glanced at it for a second, then quickly fixed his gaze on the stairs at the other end of the bridge. Aedan didn't notice just how tall the bridge actually was until she pointed it out. Quickening his pace he could hear her behind him, giving a long low whistle.

"That be a loooooong way down," she laughed a bit. "I'd spit, but there be people down there with armor and blades."

"That's nice," he uttered and kept walking.

"Oy," Kallian caught up with him. "You really should take a gander. Not a view you get to see every day."

"That's quite fine," he said quickly. "Let's just get to camp."

He sensed that Kallian came right up to his elbow and stared up at him from a low angle.

"Ya bloody kiddin' me," she muttered, then added in an incredulous tone. "You're scared of heights?"

"I am not scared," he replied, cursing the tightness in his voice. "I would simply like the ground closer to my relative position."

She laughed and went around to the other side of him, "So, if I put you up in a tree, would you break out in a sweat and cling to a branch till someone comes and gets you down like some poor mewlin' kitten?"

"Point one," he gritted out, irritation heavily setting in. "If you ever bested me enough to get me up into a tree then I will eat my own armor. Point two, I have no problem climbing trees or even walking castle battlements. Point three, if you think this is some way to hold something over me then you are sadly mistaken. As you can see I'm not freezing up or acting a gibbering idiot and am moving properly forward, so you can put that thought out of your mind."

"Ah, this be one o' them long-as-I-don't-look-down things, eh?" she rushed forward a bit, turned around, and started walking backwards in front of him, sporting a smirk.

Her smirk very much reminded him of when he was a child and the family went to visit Redcliffe Castle. He remembered being excited going there as he heard the tales and legends about the place. When they got to the high bridge leading to the castle an inexplicable fear took him over and he cried, clinging to his mother. Aedan was mortified by it, especially when Fergus teased him mercilessly for days after that. His brother wore that same exact sort of smirk that Kallian had now.

He girded himself to combat any teasing words she thought to toss at him. It was irritating to know that she had no issues with the height. She was even confident enough to walk backwards on an ancient stone bridge that could possibly collapse any day now. Aedan supposed he wound himself up so much that her next words caught him flat footed.

"So, the King knows you by sight. Even be on a first name basis with him. You know each other well?"

"I . . . " he had to pause and think. "Well, we're certainly acquainted. Seen him at Landsmeets and other functions, but it's been a while since I've seen him last. Can't say I know him as well as some, but I know him better than most can say."

"Oooooh," she nodded, still carrying that annoying smirk.

For some reason Aedan got the sense that she was only stringing him along.

"Did he go with that armor cause it matched the color of his hair or do all kings go about in gleaming gold like that to look impressive to the commoners?"

"What sort of a question is that?" Aedan practically sputtered.

Kallian only laughed in response.

Aedan shook his head, realizing she only asked it to get a reaction, "Honestly, woman, words like that have been known to start wars."

"Well, good thing I ain't the queen o' anything, then. I'd have a new war starting every week, otherwise," Kallian stated.

Aedan gave a mild frown, then a thought occurred, "So, what was all that back there about?"

"Huh? What all back where?"

"You know," he clasped his hands behind him. "Of course, your Majesty. I look forward to it, your Majesty." He quirked his own smirk, "Was half expecting you to start curtsying. Minding your P's and Q's like that."

"Well, he's the King, innit he?" crossing her arms, she glanced behind her once to see where she was going. "Got to be nice to the King otherwise he'll order me head to come off me shoulders. Right at the neck, even."

Aedan snorted, "He's not the sort to just order a beheading on a whim. King Cailan is a good man. I don't think he would have taken any offense if you just spoke as you normally would."

Kallian frowned suddenly, "Speak as me normally would, huh?"

Not understanding what the problem was, he wondered why she was frowning. Turning around to walk forward again, she mumbled something incoherent. He thought he caught the words "cousin" and "Arl", but the rest he couldn't make out.

"What did you s-"

"Here we are! Safe and sound on the other side o' the bridge," she announced loud enough that a passing soldier glanced in their direction. "So, you can stop quaking in your boots over how high we were."

They indeed had reached the other side of the bridge, almost without him noticing. The corner of his lip turned down as she was obviously trying to cause him embarrassment.

"I wasn't quaking in my boots," he said as calmly as he could.

"So you say, so you say," Kallian waved a hand dismissively while not looking at him. "Well, time to explore!"

Suddenly she took off, taking the steps upward two at a time, then going at a jog when she reached the top.

"Kallian- . . . Hey!" the seconds he spent just staring cost him and by the time he reached the top of the stairs he lost sight of her. Entering deeper into the camp he looked around. She had disappeared completely. He wondered how she managed to move so fast and fade into the encampment like that.

"What was that about?" he muttered to himself.

Aedan was certain he'd see her again where ever the Warden recruits were staying, but he had to think on what exactly set her off this time. All he had suggested was for her to speak normally.

_But what **is** normal for her?_ he thought.

He recalled when she had said that the man that scarred her face was dead. Aedan hadn't fully noticed it at the time, but she spoke back then with no accent and no coloring of words. Realizing again that he didn't really know much about Kallian, he filed all the thoughts away for later. For now he had exploring of his own to do.

Being that Duncan was the only Grey Warden he had ever met, he was eager to find this Alistair fellow. Maybe he could tell him more about the Grey Wardens and what it took to be a successful one. With that in mind, Aedan set about wandering the camp.

* * *

Kallian had already decided she was going to ditch Aedan the moment Duncan had said he was leaving them. Not that she was trying to be mean, but she doubted the upstanding lordling would let her get away with snooping into corners. She tended to work better on her own, anyway, and could get more done without a watchdog at her back.

Not that she was intending to be bad. There was nothing wrong with her poking her nose into spaces and seeing what was there. Open her ears a bit and maybe overhear a conversation or two. No crime in finding things, either. Long as she wasn't taking anything, then she was doing nothing wrong.

At least, that was what she convinced herself of. The wiser side of her knew a person could get an ear cut off for hearing something they shouldn't. It was just that everything was so new and she needed something to distract herself. Anything was better than suddenly remembering the past or pondering being on the edge of a large battle.

Meeting the King of Ferelden wasn't exactly something she thought was going to happen anytime soon, if ever. The general thought was that they would get to Ostagar, Aedan and Duncan would head off to give the bad news to the appropriate people, and then they would go do whatever it was that Grey Wardens did. Instead, he came to them in all his golden glory and now even knew her name. Panic initially set in as she was worried about what she'd suddenly blurt out to _the _noble of nobles in Ferelden. Luckily, she had a little time to collect herself with the King recognizing Aedan.

Her way out of the situation was to act like one of the few people she knew who was both respected while being able to give respect - Duncan.

Kallian did her best to act and speak as he might in the situation and it seemed to work. She wasn't the fool, didn't say anything stupid or disrespectful, and kept the somewhat sober situation somber. No trouble caused for she, Duncan, or Aedan. Which, in Kallian's mind, was a good thing.

Aedan's saying that she should have spoke "normally" irritated her. There were words she might have said that would have caused quite a bit of trouble with the King. She was certain some of that pent up frustration might have come out in stinging retorts had he asked her anything of where she was from. Getting to concentrate on filling the King in on Howe's betrayal distracted everything away from her, thank the Maker. So, all that was behind her and she could now press on, readying herself for any future talks.

Some time later she found the Quartermaster and traded in enough bobs and trinkets to get herself a set of armor that actually fit. Of course, that was after she had fun with the poor bloke as he mistook her for an elven worker. His unending row of apologizes was so satisfying, that she decided this Grey Warden business wasn't going to be so bad after all. She even managed to get him to do a little custom work on her new armor to suit her tastes better.

A while later she spoke to enough people and did enough things to get her fill. The last place she had to poke around at was what one of the soldiers called "Noble's Row", a section of the camp where the tents of the King, the Teyrns, and other such nobles resided. It worked out as the site for the Grey Warden recruits was supposedly nearby it. She found Noble's Row easy enough and all she had to do was make a convenient little turn towards it.

There were about seven tents, each of them colored quite distinctly, all of them large and spacious. Set up in a rectangle, the tents did form a row between them. It was rather quiet and she was surprised she saw no one about. Surmising that they had all gone to form strategies with Duncan and the King, she took her time examining the area.

One of the tents she came across had a banner in front of it with the very familiar Cousland heraldry on it. She sighed seeing it. It really was too bad that Aedan's brother wasn't around as he could stand to see at least one living relative. Instead, he'd have to wait because of troop morale.

_Troop morale, my arse_, she thought. _Family first. That's what the hahren always said. Even if what Aedan has to tell him is not pretty, it has to be done and he's the only one that should do it._

She walked on, but then froze on the spot as she saw the standard in front of the next tent over. Kallian knew the heraldry all too well and the last time she saw it there was fresh blood upon it. Blood that she herself caused to spill. Clenching her fists, she fought the anger that boiled up in her. She wanted to storm right into the tent, kill anyone in it, steal anything that wasn't nailed down, and burn the tent to ashes. She knew she couldn't, but, oh, how she wanted to. If the Arl of Denerim was in there she would be more than happy to make sure he never sired another disgusting creature like his son ever again.

Grinding her teeth together, she knew she had to get away from there. She willed herself to wrench forcefully away. Kallian succeeded, but upon turning she unexpectedly rammed into what felt like an iron wall. Ears catching a bit of a grunt, she knew she had just hit something living. Off guard and off balance she fell right over onto her side.

Her temper on high, she blurted out the words without thinking or even looking up first, "Oy! Watch where ya goin'!"

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" the man said with something of a drawl.

Looking up she saw that the man was, indeed, girded in full metal armor. It didn't gleam gold like King Cailan's had and it looked like it had seen some use, but it was a fine set none the less. She noted that the man was certainly much older than she and carried the baring of an experienced warrior. There were light streaks of white in his hair, but it was still predominantly a dark black. What got Kallian's nerves up on end was his gaze. He had rather intense eyes that were currently narrowed as they looked down at her.

Tearing her own eyes away, she muttered as she went about getting to her feet, "Aye, well, I was distracted and didn't notice the walking wall o' metal coming at me."

"What was that, elf?" the older man was so intimidating that she hadn't even noticed the other armed man with him standing at his elbow. "Apologize right away! Don't you know this is Teyrn Loghain you are speaking to?"

Somewhere inside her mind, a panicked version of herself began running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

_Teyrn Loghain! Teyrn Loghain!_ She was shouting. _The Hero of River Dane! The one who put King Maric on the throne! The one you're not supposed to shite around with! You're dead! You're dead! So dead!_

Outside of her mind, she calmly dusted herself off. Quickly, she recalled something another soldier had said and decided to use it.

"No, I didn't," she replied to the guard's question. "With so many officious sorts around, a person can't even swing a dead cat without hitting someone important. What's an elf to do, eh?"

She could have sworn she heard the Teyrn snort in amusement, but since his expression didn't change much she wasn't so sure. The guard started to bristle and was about to retort, but Teyrn Loghain raised a hand to still his tongue. Looking her over from head to toe, Kallian put up with the scrutiny while she straightened herself out.

"You must be the other new Grey Warden recruit King Cailan mentioned," he said after a while. "You might want to mind yourself as I believe you're the only elf in the King's camp armed and armored as you are."

She brushed the last bits of dirt out of her hair, "Well, I'm not about to face the darkspawn wearing an apron and carrying a broom, you know. Unless Duncan's neglected to inform me I'm only to be on as Warden's Cook and they just haven't issued me a soup ladle yet."

Kallian wasn't sure what in the world was giving her this gumption. Maybe she was still riding on the anger she had towards the Arl of Denerim and his kin, or maybe her conversation with the Quartermaster was giving her an attitude. In either case, that small bit inside of her was still gibbering and saying her last prayers to the Maker. Outwardly, the persona she wore was barbed and ready for a war of words.

To her relief, he gave another one of those grunting snorts, "So, you don't even know if you'll be fighting alongside your fellows now, do you?"

It was a genuine question and some of her inner gibbering died away with it.

"Not a clue," she answered honestly. "I'm fresh on, so I don't know how they manage these things."

"If King Cailan has his way, you will be," Loghain said with a bit of an ominous tone. "Regardless of how inexperienced you are."

It made Kallian's eyebrow twitch up slightly.

"As I said, you should mind yourself," he continued, speaking pointedly. "There are other important sorts about who'd take a great deal of offence to having a dead cat swung at them."

Through the intonation of his voice she got the message loud and clear. He was letting her go with no repercussions and only a slight warning. There would be others around who would be quick to grab a switch to beat her with, regardless of her being recruited by the Grey Wardens. Next time she might not be so lucky.

She nodded her head slowly, "I'll be taking your advice heavily into consideration, your Grace."

He gave yet another snort and started to turn away, but then he paused as a thought apparently hit him.

"You're pretty for a Warden," the words shocked her, but the way he said it carried no flirtatious undertones. He was only making an observation. The Teyrn's next words solidified that he meant no advances by it. "One of the first Grey Wardens Maric allowed back into Ferelden was a woman. One of the best fighters I'd ever seen. Don't let anyone tell you that you don't belong."

With that he nodded his head while looking away, as if satisfied with what he just said and how he said it. No other words were spoken and he headed for his tent. Loghain's guard eyed Kallian with nothing but glares the whole way. Kallian didn't avert her gaze, but she did bow and salute appropriately with her arms crossed over her heart.

Standing there for a good minute blinking, she wasn't sure exactly how she was supposed to take his words. Thankful for surviving the encounter, the inner Kallian finally passed out in relief, but now she found herself standing a little bit taller for some reason. The man was intimidating as all get out and she didn't doubt that even if he wasn't a Teyrn he'd still have people step aside for him. So, it seemed surreal that he'd advise her, an elf and a woman to boot, to keep her head up.

Maybe Loghain was sort of like Bryce Cousland. She had only stared into the Teyrn of Highever's eyes for a brief moment, but in that moment she had the sense that he was looking at her as a person. Not as "an elf", but someone with thoughts, feelings, and emotions of their own. Not that Loghain came across as compassionate as Teyrn Cousland did, but perhaps a common view existed.

Or maybe she was just reading too much into it, should just take the bits he tossed at her, and duck into a hole while she had the chance. Making a point to not turn around and see the Arl of Denerim's tent again, she left with the intent to find their own little encampment and flee Noble's Row while she could.


	10. Finding the Falcon

_**A/N:**The extra detailed description for Kallian's armor is due to some artwork that the loverly Tahara on the SiB (and many other DA comms) LJ had done for me a while back. To see it, go to my profile page. I've also added other links there to pics that have been an inspiration for my writing._

_**A/N:** (5/13/2010) Grammar and punctuation corrections made. _

_**A/N:** (6/18/2010) More minor grammar corrections._

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Part 10: Finding the Falcon

"Pardon me, good lady, but could I have a moment of your time?"

The mage Aedan addressed looked up from the container of vials she was going through. Silver-grey hair topped her head, which was tied back in a short pony tail. Guessing her to be about his mother's age, he was going to give someone both older then he - and likely more powerful - full respect. He just hoped she was the kindly sort and could help him find the man that was suddenly becoming elusive.

"As long as it is a short moment, young man," she smiled as she said it. "There is much to do today. How can I help you?"

"I will certainly be brief," Aedan smiled in return. "I'm looking for a Grey Warden who goes by the name of Alistair. I've searched most of the area for him with no luck. This mages camp was the last place I could think to check. Have you seen him or know where he might happen to be?"

"You just missed him, as a matter of fact," the mage replied. "Alistair came through here just a few minutes ago looking for Enchanter Deron. Something about having a message for him. They both should currently be in the structures passed the quartermaster."

She motioned with a hand in that direction and Aedan looked that way for a moment before smiling back at her.

"Thank you greatly, and thank you for your time, ser mage," he bowed his head to her.

"It was no trouble, young man. Good luck to you in the coming battles," she inclined her head in kind.

"You as well," he responded, then took his leave.

The woman wasn't the first mage Aedan had ever met, but she certainly was the most polite. He'd met three other mages in his lifetime. One was not talkative and the Templar with him spoke most of his words for him. Another was arrogant and said non-mages were not worth her time to speak to. The third happened to be part of a roaming band of outlaws that he and his brother had to deal with. That particular conversation ended with Fergus' sword going through the apostate's belly. Having a civilized talk with one was a nice surprise and he hoped any other mages he met from here on out were somewhat similar.

This hope began to slip as he heard snippets of a conversation while heading up into the structure.

"Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!"

"Yes, I was harassing _you_ by delivering a message."

"Your glibness does you no credit."

"Here I thought we were getting along so well. I was even going to name one of my children after you . . . the grumpy one."

Aedan approached slowly as he saw the two men speaking. It was easy enough to tell who was who - the one in the mage robes had to be Enchanter Deron - but he had to pause at the sight of the one who was "Alistair". The man was younger than he expected. Much younger. He supposed a preconceived notion he had that Grey Wardens were all seasoned veterans had planted itself into his head somehow. Anyone "minding the recruits" had to be at least be nearing their thirtieth winter, yet Alistair didn't look like he'd even seen his twentieth.

He did wear a suit of splint armor and had a sword and shield strapped to his back, so he was a fighter of some sort, at least. How good a fighter he couldn't guess. Being a Grey Warden, he assumed he had to be skilled. Aedan also had to remind himself that age never indicated how good a warrior a person could actually be. Pulling back on his original thoughts, he decided he was just going to have to wait and see things for himself.

"Enough! I will speak with the Revered Mother if I must!" Enchanter Deron snarled and quickly turned on his heel. He almost ran into Aedan and snapped at him, "Out of my way, fool!"

Sidestepping out of the mage's way, Deron passed Aedan, looking red in the face. Quirking his eyebrow high, Aedan then looked at Alistair.

He came forward with something of a sigh, "You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together."

Aedan snorted once at that, thinking of the situation back in Highever, and said flatly, "I know exactly what you mean."

"It's like a party," he clasped his hands in front of him. "We can all stand in a circle and hold hands. _That _will give the darkspawn something to think about."

He had to chuckle at the mental imagery of it, "Too bad it isn't anywhere near Summerday. We can add in a Summer Pole dance and maybe distract the darkspawn to death. Kill them with colored ribbons."

"Knowing the way it goes with some around here, we'd likely end up arguing on what color the ribbons should be," Alistair shook his head slightly. "One would think that just going with the King's colors would be enough."

"One would think," Aedan agreed. They grinned a bit at one another. He certainly couldn't fault the man for his sense of humor.

Alistair's face crinkled lightly as he peered closer at him, "Wait, we haven't met have we? Shouldn't I know you from somewhere?"

"No, we haven't met," Aedan answered and held out a hand to him. "You must be Alistair."

"And that makes you one of the two new recruits Duncan mentioned. Aedan, I suppose? Glad to meet you," he clasped Aedan's forearm with a firm, solid grip, then glanced around. "The other recruit isn't with you?"

"No, we . . . split up," he released his forearm. "She'll hopefully show up soon. Likely at our camp."

"Fair enough," the young Warden motioned with a hand. "For now, let's head there as I imagine Duncan would be eager to get things started."

Aedan gave a short nod and they both started on their way.

Alistair spoke as they walked, "As junior member of the order, I'll be accompanying you and the other recruits when you prepare for the Joining."

"Junior member?" he repeated. "Do they typically let junior members train the recruits?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call it training. Not at the moment," he paused, likely looking for the right words. "It's a little more like babysitting. I try to answer any questions they have, make sure they have their meals, give them daily duties to tend to." He winced out a smile, "Like I said, babysitting. Besides, we really couldn't do any genuine training until Duncan returned."

"Why is that?"

"Duncan told us not to do the Joining ritual until he returned," he explained. "Even if our senior member found the situation warranted we proceed, we'd be missing a key component that only Duncan currently has."

"I'm not certain I follow," Aedan said in confusion. "What does going through the ritual have to do with training recruits how to fight the darkspawn?"

Alistair opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He clamped his mouth shut before speaking hesitantly, "Ah . . . well . . . I can't . . . quite explain it without telling you about the Joining ritual."

Aedan sighed some, "Then what can you tell me?"

"Honestly, nothing," Alistair looked away briefly, almost nervously, then added quickly. "Try not to worry about it. It will . . . just distract you."

The secrecy of the situation was beginning to irk him. Granted, many orders had simular rituals, but the more the subject was avoided the more Aedan suspected that this Joining ritual was more than just a ceremonial passage. Giving a guess, he figured that none of them were going to fully know what it entailed until the moment of the ritual itself.

"Fine, I see how it goes now," he muttered, then decided to change the subject. "So, that argument I saw . . . what was it about?"

"With the mage?" Alistair blew out a sigh. "As you can see, the Circle is here at the King's request and the Chantry doesn't like it one bit. They just love letting mages know how unwelcome they are. Which puts me in a bit of an awkward position. I was once a templar."

Aedan winced in sympathy and muttered, "That _would _be awkward." He paused in thought. "Wait. I thought templars weren't allowed to leave the order once they joined."

"That's true," he replied slowly. "But, you see, Duncan recruited me before I took my vows."

"Ah," he nodded his head in understanding.

"But the mages at the Circle still remember me being there when I was training. They still associate me as being a templar despite now being a Grey Warden. I'm sure the Revered Mother knew that. She meant it as an insult when she sent me as her messenger, and the mage picked right up on that." He sighed again, shaking his head. "I never would have agreed to deliver it, but Duncan says we're all to cooperate and get along." Giving a mirthless smile, he spoke sarcastically, "Apparently, they didn't get the same speech."

Crossing his arms, Aedan gave a grunt, "Brings people together, indeed."

At that moment they passed the mage that Aedan had spoken to earlier. Looking up from her work she spied them both, smiled, nodded, then got right back to what she was doing. Aedan inclined his head in return and noted Alistair also raised a hand briefly in greeting.

"Do you know her?" Aedan asked. "She's the one that directed me to you."

"That's Wynne, one of the more powerful Senior Enchanters at the Circle. One of the most active as well, despite her age," he glanced back at her once before continuing. "I'm not surprised she was one to answer the King's calling. I've heard her described as being nice in a stern motherly sort of way. I always managed to get her to darn my socks for me."

"One of the more powerful Senior Enchanters of the Circle, and you get her to darn your socks?" Aedan eyed him as if he were crazy.

"What can I say?" he grinned. "She has a soft spot for hopeless causes. All I had to do was look pitiful, tell her I didn't know how to fix the holes, and say I was too embarrassed to ask my superiors for another pair. Worked every time."

Aedan shook his head slowly, "You are a strange man."

"You're not the first to tell me that."

He added a chuckle to his head shake, which died down as they approached the Grey Warden camp. There were two figures at the ruins nearby the tent. What he saw made him mentally pause.

One of them was Kallian. She'd obviously traded in the poor fitting leather armor she had for something that was made to fit the contours of a woman better. The set wasn't the standard one he'd been seeing on other female soldiers around. It lacked any shoulder pads, likely to give her arms more range of movement, and she went with light leather covering on her arms and fingerless gloves. There was no protective kilt connected to it, instead there were hip guards and leather breeches. Her thigh-high boots were the same ones she had shown up at Castle Cousland with. They had ivy vine patterns engraved into it and they moved soundlessly. The quirk to the ensemble were the pair of belts. She wore them much like Duncan; over a sash and crisscrossed, her daggers now holstered from each belt for an easier draw.

The other was a man he didn't know, but there was an immediate twinge of annoyance when he saw him. He was average looking with black hair, stubble upon his chin, and wore standard leather armor. It wasn't his looks. It was how he was standing in front of Kallian. She was leaning back upon one of the pillars with her arms crossed, looking up at him and wearing a light grin as they spoke. He had a hand planted above her head, bracing himself on it, looming a little close over her. Too close. There was a lascivious little grin on his face that Aedan wanted to wipe off.

He had to quickly pull himself up short, not knowing why that initial feeling hit him. It wasn't as if he had any claims on Kallian. Not at all. What probably bothered him was that the man's stance was one he'd used before on other women in the past. Aedan knew what it did. The man was given a position of dominance while still allowing the lady to escape to the left or right if she chose. If the woman was obviously playing hard to get, all a man had to do was lower an arm to prevent a escape or capture her lips to silence her words. It could lead one to rather provocative situations, or a quick slap to the face, if a man was too forward.

Before the assortment of thoughts and emotions could work themselves out in his mind, Alistair spoke up.

"Ah, good. Daveth, you're here."

Both Kallian and this Daveth person looked in their direction. Kallian uttered something very softly to Daveth, who in turn nodded his head with a grin and stood up straight to face he and Alistair.

"Wondering when you were going to come about," Daveth said with an accent so similar to Kallian's that for a second he thought the man was teasing her by speaking that way. After a while Aedan realized it was genuinely the way he spoke. "Seems we got the new recruits here. Me and Kallian here were just getting to . . . eh . . . know one another better."

She raised her hand and waved at them by wiggling her fingers, "Lo there. I be the new girl."

Alistair raised his own hand and hesitantly wiggled his own fingers, as if suddenly unsure. Aedan saw him glance at his own hand and immediately lower it. "Yes. Kallian, correct?"

"One in the same, deary," she practically purred her words out.

"Uhm," Alistair sounded nervous. "Heh. Right. Well, I'm Alistair. I was told you came here with Aedan."

Kallian nodded to confirm it. Alistair then motioned to Daveth, "Aedan, this is Daveth, a . . . fellow from Denerim. Daveth, this Aedan Co- . . . Aedan . . . from Highever."

Aedan glanced at Alistair who in turn gave a very short and apologetic looking wince of a smile. Duncan had likely told Alistair of who he was, so he made note to talk to him later on how much Duncan had informed him. He stepped forward and held a hand out to Daveth, who clasped forearms with him after a bit of hesitation.

"Pleased to meet you, Aedan," Daveth's smile became less and less genuine after a few seconds. It was somewhat subconscious, but perhaps Aedan had gripped Daveth's forearm a little bit harder than necessary. "That . . . is quite a grip you have."

"Warrior's life. What can I say," he responded after releasing him again. Inwardly he was telling himself to stop with the posturing and that there was absolutely no need for it. For some reason his male ego was being stubborn.

"Have you seen Ser Jory?" Alistair asked after glancing around.

"Duncan said he was going to look for him," Kallian said, her arms were crossed and she glanced at Aedan oddly before looking at Alistair. "Said that you'd be back soon enough so we can get started."

"Alright," he paused in thought. "In the meantime, then, you three get yourselves ready to head out. We likely won't be going out too far so no need for heavy supplies. Arms, armor, light gear. That's all you'll need."

"Things are really getting interesting today," Daveth said as he passed Kallian, waggling his eyebrows.

"Too right," she responded with another grin at him.

Aedan silently went about storing his extra packs in the tent, trying to get a grip on himself.


	11. From A Blood Feather

_**A/N: **At this rate, I should get to the Landsmeet by late 2012. :P_

_This chapter was turning out too long so I had to split it in two. This one and the next one "Ruffled Feathers" were supposed to be one, but I wanted to get at least something posted to show I am still working on this story. :)  
_

_Bumping the story from rating T to M. Not for anything happening in this particular chapter, but there will be some darker elements in the future that easily pushes it to M. This is just a heads up is all.  
_

_And, Donovan, thanks for the verbal pick-me-up. It did get my mind back on why I originally started this. To heck with the nay-sayers, eh? ^_^ I do this for me. _

_Oh, and a knackery is just a slaughterhouse where they process the bodies of animals unfit for consumption (like horses that can no longer work) into things like glue, dog food, and fertilizer. I imagine that in Denerim where the population is high there would be a development of slaughterhouses and the like. I figured it appropriate for my Kallian's vocabulary._

_(8/23/2010) Changed the dead Redside Knight's name. Sten Cookie points to the first who gets the reference. :D  
_

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**Part 11: From A Blood Feather  
**

"Darkspawn blood," Daveth said in hushed tones, "and for the Joining even. I knew my nose was twitchin' for some reason. Why you think we need a vial for each of us?"

"Been pondering that since Duncan said it," Kallian replied just as quietly. "Maybe it be a right o' passage. Like a high prig saying you can't join his crew till you come back with three purse worth from rich's row."

"Maybe," he nodded a little. "Or maybe we'll be painting the darkspawn blood on ourselves. I hear that's what some Chasind tribes do after they kill a great beast. Paint symbols on themselves to prove their worth and such."

"Thought touching that stuff were dangerous," she arched an eyebrow at him.

"Are you going to start making like 'Ser Bravery' over there?" he quirked a grin and motioned his head to Ser Jory who walked far ahead of them. "Didn't think you'd be the sort to start clucking when the fox comes by."

"Oh, cork it," she grinned. "You and me both know that this really just be to see if we shit our britches or not when we cross metal with these sods. I ain't got a gripe with that, but the old bugga's been dodgy as a snitch in a room full o' magistrates when it comes to talking about this Joining thing."

Daveth nodded again, "It's why my nose is still twitchin'. Think we can place him?"

"Duncan? Aye," Kallian responded without an ounce of hesitation. "He might be dodgy, but he ain't a conk. He'll be on the up and up with us when it comes time."

"Daveth! Kallian!"

They both looked ahead to see Aedan eying them both.

"You're falling a bit too far behind," he called back at them. "Keep up if you would, please."

Aedan continued on. Kallian and Daveth passed a slight knowing glance at one another and picked up their respective paces.

They had the task of gathering four vials of darkspawn blood. One for each of them. Alistair was along as an extra hand, an observer, and to be the one to extract the blood into the specially made vials. He had emphasized that he wasn't there to lead them and it was up to the rest of them to work together to see the task done.

Aedan ended up becoming their impromptu leader rather quickly. Kallian didn't mind it. As a matter of fact, it felt rather natural. When they came across some ravenous, starving wolves, he took charge. He likely saved she and Daveth some pain by ordering Ser Jory over to their side as some of the wolves tried to outflank them. His choices made sense, he asked things of people that didn't feel like a demand, and he didn't gripe about the situation.

Ser Jory, the knight from Highever - or Redcliffe, Kallian wasn't paying too close attention again - came up short on that last point. He seemed like an alright sort at first, but when they came across the gruesome sight of hung soldiers and remains impaled on long spears her opinion changed. Almost immediately he started talking about turning back and how unwise it was for them to be out there. Alistair gave him some reassurances, but he still seemed unconvinced. It didn't exactly endear Daveth or Kallian to the thought of Jory leading them.

Neither she nor Daveth had it in them to make like a Warden Commander. They were back alley operators, eyes on the side, and ears to the walls sorts. Not the kind to take charge in situations like this. So without even discussing it they simply started to defer to Aedan's judgments. Ser Jory followed suit not long after that.

Daveth gave Kallian a brief wink and trotted ahead to catch up with Aedan. Grinning in return at him, she kept her pace, still lagging behind a minimal distance.

She liked Daveth the moment she met him. They spoke the same language and she already felt the first budding roots of being able to conspire with him. He was a horrid flirt and Kallian only responded because it was nice harmless fun. Something she hadn't had since leaving the Alienage. They really wouldn't be able to see if it ever lead to anything until after surviving the battles to come. Till then the fun flirtations seemed to keep them both satisfied.

"Sorry, squire," Daveth said once he got along side Aedan, "just got a little busy whispering sweet nothings into each others ears. Opportunity knocking and all that."

"Not quite the time and place for that sort of thing, Daveth," Aedan replied with the hint of slightly gritted teeth in his voice.

"But it's been so quiet. Since them wolves and the poor hanging sods there hasn't been much else out here. Thought I'd fill the time a bit," he glanced back at Kallian, who coyly blew a kiss at him.

"When it's most quiet is when you need to be wary," Aedan stated. "A good deal of losing battles happen when one side is caught unawares. If you have that sort of time on your hands . . . did I overhear correctly that you were raised near the Korcari Wilds?"

"Fairly much," Daveth answered. "Been into here a couple of times before, but not a great amount and it were a while ago."

"Good enough, you can be our scout then," he motioned with a hand. "I think we're going to have to veer off this old trail we're on if we're to find any darkspawn. Get ahead of us about fifty paces or so. I'll trust you to lead us through. If you spot anything just stop and wait for us to catch up or signal us to halt."

"I think I can manage that, squire," Daveth grinned and moved on ahead of the rest of them.

Aedan didn't look back at her, but she glared at the back of his head for a good long score of moments. It was a little obvious that part of the reason Aedan sent him ahead of the group was to split he and Kallian up. It hadn't passed her notice the dislike he was showing towards Daveth the moment he met him. He wasn't letting that dislike get in the way of working with him, but still. Aedan was acting like some jealous suitor who now had a challenger for his lady's hand. Not that she thought Aedan felt that way about her.

_Of course he doesn't feel that way about you. How could he? No way possible. Right? Right. _She squished hard under heel the tiny feeling she suddenly felt. _Not possible._

It didn't explain Aedan's behavior. Maybe he felt he did have some hold over her for all she did, despite his earlier statements. Maybe he thought he owned her somehow. Maybe Daveth looked like someone he used to know that got on his bad side once. What ever it was it was starting to irk her and Kallian decided she'd take Aedan aside later and straighten it all out. Soon.

Taking her eyes off of Aedan, they landed on Alistair who had apparently been looking at her. She couldn't quite read the look on his face, but at least it wasn't one of disgust, or scrutiny, or even anything bordering on judgmental. If anything he simply looked curious.

He offered a short, almost sheepish smile. The corner of her lip turned up in a partial smile of her own. Returning his gaze forward, Kallian got to thinking that this Alistair fellow seemed an alright sort. Then again she didn't get to speak with him as much as Aedan had. For all she knew, under the attractive, kind face was an elf hating, self-centered bigot. That was just an exaggeration, of course, but Kallian didn't want to leave any possibilities out.

Already she was missing the banter with Daveth, so she busied herself with keeping an eye on things behind them. This wasn't the back streets of Denerim, but she didn't feel inclined to be "caught unawares" either.

* * *

Daveth crouched low and raised a hand to signal the others to stop. Alistair already knew there was a group of darkspawn ahead and he gripped the handle of his blade as his fingers started to itch. It wouldn't be long before they got to sensing him, but he needed to see how the recruits handled this.

The cutpurse came back to them quietly and uttered softly to them. Alistair noted that he was already addressing Aedan.

"Looks about eight head just around the hill there," he pointed back at it. "Camp of some sort. Definitely armed and armored. Skin didn't look natural."

"Darkspawn more than likely," Aedan said, looking back at Alistair. He only nodded to confirm his suspicions.

"I think we can take those odds," Aedan stated. "Any archers among them?"

"Only looked like one had a quiver on them."

"Good. Kallian, can you get up top that hill unseen?" Aedan pointed up at it just as the elf came up to crouch at his side.

She looked at the hill for a second then proceeded to ready the shortbow she had, "Does a Chantry Initiate get fully pissed on a full bottle o' wine?"

Alistair suppressed a snicker and he supposed that was her way of saying "yes". Aedan apparently understood, "Then get up there and wait for the blades to start clashing, take out any archers you happen to spot. After that, it's your pick."

"Not me specialty, but I'll do me best," she moved quickly and quietly ahead to make it up the hill.

"Alistair and myself up front," he said as he readied his shield. "Daveth, Jory, flank them when you can. We keep our heads under that ridge over there until we get much closer. Wait for my signal, then we charge."

As they moved forward, Alistair quickly went over in his mind what he'd observed so far.

Aedan was quickly earning his respect. Deciding on tactics seemed like second nature to him. Though there seemed to be some issue he had with Daveth, he kept his head on his shoulders enough to ignore it. He had that whole commanding presence thing going for him _and _the man could fight. It was probably part of his Cousland upbringing, but still the man had it together. He could definitely see why Duncan wanted to recruit him.

The cutpurse, however, he still couldn't fully understand. Daveth apparently could scout and he could use those daggers, but he couldn't see how purse stealing fit into taking down a genlock. Duncan kept telling him that it takes all sorts of skills in order to fight the darkspawn, but some skills made no sense to Alistair.

Jory, at least, could certainly handle his own in a fight. His hits were never hesitant and his movements were solid. Though that was the only shining quality Alistair could see. He knew Jory didn't enamor himself to the others when he questioned the wisdom of just the five of them venturing out into the Wilds. Alistair was half tempted to tell him that with barely two dozen Wardens in Ferelden, traveling in small groups was the norm and that he should get used to it.

Then there was the elf woman, Kallian. Duncan wasn't able to tell him much about her other than the fact that she had to be conscripted. She seemed about as good with the blades as Daveth was. Surprising for both an elf and a woman. What other skills she had, Alistair could only guess. They would be seeing how good she is with a bow in a moment.

That thought brought him back to the present and he gripped the strap of his shield a little tighter. They crouched low to move forward. Any moment now the darkspawn would sense him near, then the test could begin.

* * *

Kallian's heart pounded in her chest and it wasn't due to fear.

She started to feel the sensation as they pressed on with Daveth scouting ahead and she watching the rear. They were looking for a fight, hunting to get a kill. It was something she wasn't quite used to and it excited her on a level she didn't know existed in her.

They were not fighting to defend, or to escape. It wasn't even for vengeance, or for riches. They were hunting to eradicate these creatures from the face of Ferelden and she felt a form of strength in it. Hunter instead of prey.

It made her feel rather quite alive.

Laying low near the top of the hill, she saw the darkspawn. From this far away they looked like any other armed soldiers. Focusing, the details started to show and she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

They were not natural. Their skin was a mottled gray-green and they lacked anything in the way of lips or noses. It was like anything that might have been cartilage in their face was taken out and all their skin was pulled tight. Some of them were small. Short and kind of stocky. Others were more man sized and she saw one had a full set of armor with odd symbols painted on it. Daveth was also incorrect. There were two that had quivers and she saw the outlines of the bows they had.

She didn't want to look too closely at what was hanging from the stone archways behind the darkspawn or what happened to be stuck on the long pikes near the fire. They'd seen the same already before. All it did was fuel the fire in her and made her want to kill as many of these things as they could. It easily got her over any notions of being too afraid to fight them or having any thoughts of fleeing the scene.

From her elevated point of view she could see the others making their way below the raised ridge. They kept themselves low and moved as quietly as large human men could in metal armor. She was fairly certain that Daveth was the only one who made no noise save for some light creaking of leather. The darkspawn should have been too far away for them to hear any quiet clanks, especially when a pair of them were- . . .

Kallian had to stop and consider it. They were making some sort of noises and shoving at one another. It was the one with the full set of armor and another who was just as big and only slightly better armored than the others. She guessed it was some sort of dispute over what one of them had in their hands. The noises they made was not really a language that she could discern. They grunted and growled more than anything else. Squinting she tried to make out what object it was. It looked to be a glove or a gauntlet, but at this distance it was difficult to fully tell.

Then, all at once she saw each and every one of them start to look around. There was absolutely nothing to signal that they do it, yet the two arguing ones dropped the object to the ground and reached for their weapons. Kallian was closer to her comrades then the darkspawn and, as far as she could tell, they did nothing to give away their position. Yet, simultaneously as if someone had shouted it out, they began to look around the whole area. She raised slightly as she saw two of them get closer and closer to the others and she knocked an arrow.

It had admittedly been a while since she had a bow in her hand. Not since her mother had shown her how to use it, as a matter of fact. She was fairly certain she remembered everything she was taught. If she forgot any of it, she was going to have to relearn it all _very _quickly in a second. Her heart was thrumming in her chest and she tried to breath easy and steadily for it to calm down. A heavily beating heart meant an unsteady body. An unsteady body meant for a poor shot. Kallian needed to calm herself, but the closer the two darkspawn got and the longer Aedan and the others waited, the more she tensed.

She realized with ever dawning horror that they were unaware the darkspawn were about to encroach on their position. Drawing back the arrow, she started to aim for the one closest to them. Kallian knew what her orders were, but if the others were sprung upon before they could go on the attack then they'd have to fight from lower ground or fade back into swamp water where they'd literally get bogged down. A second away from letting the arrow fly, she saw Alistair look up just as the darkspawn was beginning to look down. Without thinking about her own predicament she fired. The arrow arced through the air and glanced off the helm of the closest one to him.

It didn't cause the creature any harm, unfortunately, but it did get its attention. Snapping a look right over at her, it gave a guttural and loud roar. Next thing she knew, eight pair of darkspawn eyes were on her.

" . . . _shite_ . . ," she drew another arrow and fired again at the one closest to reaching her.

This time the arrow hit around its exposed collar bone, the force of the arrow lurching its shoulder back. The hit didn't stop the creature's progression and Kallian grit her teeth. It was like it hadn't felt the pain at all. Drawing another arrow, her heart beat like a hammer in her chest. Panic was about to sink in.

Then with a yell and a flurry of action, Aedan and the others were upon the darkspawn, taking a good deal of them off balance as they attacked what was now their rear flank. Two of them quickly fell before the darkspawn could even turn and react to the new situation. Ser Jory cut deep into a third and it wouldn't be long before that one fell as well. The larger one with the full armor gurgled something out. She had this sense that there were words in the animalistic sounds. Almost confirming her suspicions the darkspawn moved after the "command". The three that bore swords turned towards Aedan and the others. Seeing one of the bow wielders aim for them, she swung around and aimed for it instead.

As she focused on her target she noticed the other archer taking aim at her. Screwing up her courage, she held her position. That darkspawn was not going to fire that arrow at the people she was going to have to start to rely on. Especially now that she's messed the plan up somewhat. Kallian fired her arrow just as the darkspawn fired at her. Her arrow reached its target, luckily making it fire wildly as the arrowhead shallowly pierced the thing's forearm. The arrow that was aimed at her curved too far over her head and landed somewhere behind her.

Grinning toothily, she quickly drew another arrow. These supposed monsters of death and destruction were lousy shots. Her eyes flitted over a second to the others. The third one was down, a fourth was getting caught between Aedan and Daveth's blades, and the better armored one was just engaging Alistair and Jory. Quickly she aimed again, and went for the one pulling the arrow out of its arm. She had both of the archers attention now, but their arrows kept aiming wide. She took her time to aim, her breathing calmer. Trusting Aedan and the others to do their part, she needed to do hers. Two arrows managed to make the first archer keel over, clutching to the arrow that found home in its neck.

_They are **not** immortal._

Firing about three arrows at the second one, she only managed to nick it in the arm once before it began to charge forward. It dropped the bow, no doubt realizing it was doing it no good. That was perfectly fine by Kallian. She preferred things to be more up close and personal. Firing off one more arrow at it - again only grazing it - she cast the bow to the side and drew the two daggers at her hips. The darkspawn was smart enough to drop the bow, but not smart enough to think that coming at her while she had the higher ground might not have been the best strategy. Simply waiting at the top of the hill, she gritted her teeth as it scrambled up to reach her. The blade it bore was all jagged edges and black iron, something made more for simple hacking rather than anything with finesse.

As it neared, it lashed across with the blade, but with the poor footing it had the blade she parried barely had any bite to it. Countering quickly she slashed at it, her cut crossed along its chest. It did no more than scratch the front of the armor it wore, but the cut was not meant to damage much. The darkspawn stepped back at the quick movement, making it hesitate. In that moment Kallian got a full whiff of the thing and tried not to wretch. It smelled like an outdoor knackery in the middle of summer. A sickening sweet rotted smell as the carcasses of animals laid out in the sun. It assailed the nose and made one's insides curl. She ended up hesitating as well and it moved towards her again.

A smarter sort might of continued to back away till they were on more even ground or even try to work their way around her. This one didn't think that far ahead. It tried to attack again, exactly in the same manner. She parried and countered as before, but when his arms were wide open she snapped her leg up and kicked it square in the chest. Off balance and with shaky footing, the darkspawn tumbled backwards down the steeper side of the hill. Knowing this had to be done with quickly, she slid on her feet down the hill after it.

Just as it tried to get back up on its hands and knees, she brought both of her blades down on its back. One of them dug through the back of its collarbone, the other clanked against armor. It howled out as it fell flat, and Kallian got the impression it was more due to frustration than pain. Planting a knee firmly in the darkspawn's back, she held fast to the one that pierced its flesh and stabbed the other dagger repeatedly into the space between the front and back plating of its armor. The darkspawn's limbs flailed haplessly stab after stab. She cut at its arm once as it got in the way of her blade. Finally its howl became a gurgle and it lay still and unmoving.

_They are **not** unbeatable._

Kallian panted after the exertion and quickly looked up to see where the others were at. They had the heavily armored darkspawn surrounded and down on one knee.

_Did they get it to surrender? Do darkspawn ever surrender? The way Duncan was talking . . .  
_

Her questions were answered swiftly as it lunged up, swinging the large two handed sword it had in a wide arc. Alistair, Aedan, and Jory easily evaded it as the strike was predictable. As the darkspawn ended its swing, Daveth was quickly at its flank as his daggers slashed and pierced hip and back. Trying to bring the sword around to attack Daveth, it was stopped by Jory's own two handed sword encountering it. Alistair quickly stepped forward once it was off balance and slammed his shield into its back. The darkspawn flailed forward only to be caught by Aedan's sword piercing right through its armor and into its gut. Daveth got it again, sliding a blade through a joint in the plating near its ribs.

There was a breath of pause as they held the darkspawn upright with their weapons. The creature convulsed as if it had a fit of the coughs, then black blood started to seep down from under its helm. Almost as one they backed away, yanking weapons free. The sword dropped from the darkspawn's hands and it wavered on its feet for a moment before finally falling backwards with an armor-clattering crunch.

"Ha!" Kallian laughed once and punched a dagger carrying fist on the body under her. They won. They had really won. She _could_ do this.

Looking down to pull out her blade, she started slightly and quickly stood up. The blood that poured out from the side wounds she inflicted was bubbling. It was thick, black, and seemed to be seeping into the ground instead of spreading over it. The grass it was getting into contact with was withering as she watched.

"How the bloody sod are we supposed to collect that?" she murmured.

Quickly she checked herself to see if she had any of it on her. There was a small splattering on her boot and her daggers were also somewhat coated, but other than that she was generally clean of it. The blood on the boot didn't bubble and neither did the blood on the daggers.

_Maybe it can only blight things that are alive? _she thought, remembering something one of the many Sergeants at camp was saying about how the blood itself could taint anything.

"Kallian! Are you alright?" she looked up to see Aedan approaching.

She nodded a few times, "Right fine."

Nodding in return, he looked down a bit at the body at her feet, then at her again. His face tightened a bit. It occurred to her that she did mess up on her "orders". She certainly didn't wait for the swords to start clashing and she didn't start firing at the archers till the fight was fully on. He was likely going to get on her for that. Tell her in some officious sounding voice that she didn't follow orders and how dare she do something to mess up the strategy or some other I-am-the-leader-how-dare-you-disobey claptrap.

"Fast thinking on getting the darkspawn's attention," he said instead. "Little risky, but good call."

Kallian blinked, "Uh . . . right . . . well . . . "

The corner of his lip turned up, "You didn't waste an arrow and avoided having them get the jump on us. As I said, good call."

He walked away to leave her there a little flatfooted. Praise was not what she was expecting, especially since she really didn't think the strategy all the way through. They did survive, she supposed, and if she hadn't done as she did the situation could have been worse. Maybe she really did belong.

* * *

Aedan took a good look around. Eight darkspawn dead and not even a mild injury suffered. He had the notion that they were highly lucky about that. If Kallian hadn't drawn their attention when she did, the darkspawn would have dropped down on them first. Aedan didn't even notice the enemy was that close until he heard the crack of her arrow bounce off its helm. Perhaps they had made too much noise when they moved and it alerted them to their presence.

_Little matter now,_he thought as he surveyed the area to make sure the darkspawn were fully dead and that no more were coming. _The fight was won. Just have to learn again how to move more quietly in this armor . . . or more logically get armor lighter and better fit for travel._

It was halfway on their way to Ostagar that Aedan had realized he didn't exactly have the best armor on for long travel and intermittent fighting. It was a fine set and good for a long standing campaign where you had half a dozen other similarly armored men to alternate with you on the front line. This wasn't the case and his armor was wearing him down physically. He needed lighter armor like Alistair was wearing and had he been given the time after reaching Ostagar to see to it he would of. Instead he was stuck with the plate with the Cousland heraldry etched into it.

Already Jory had narrowed him down to being a member of the noble house because of it. The realization that he wasn't just Aedan of Highever, but Lord Aedan Cousland, immediately elicited a "my lord" from the Highever knight. Something which he quickly tried to quell. Luckily, Ser Jory wasn't aware of the situation in Highever and Aedan wasn't going to tell him until after the Joining, perhaps not even until after the battle. The way the man went on about his wife in Highever made it essential that Aedan say nothing, otherwise he'd end up at the least very distracted and at the worst abandoning his duty by going back to his wife. Not that it would have been the end of the world, but it would have been irresponsible of Aedan to do that to Jory.

"All of you, come over here," Alistair called out as he knelt next to the body of the last darkspawn killed.

As with the other corpse Kallian was over, this one too had black blood that bubbled as it oozed out. It was disconcerting to see and it did make him double check himself for any of the blood to be on his skin.

"You notice how this big fellow here is better armed and armored than the rest," he rapped a knuckle on its helm, "and the extra markings on his armor?"

There were acknowledging nods all around.

"This is what we refer to as a Hurlock Alpha," he went about taking the darkspawn's helm off, revealing its monstrous, bloody countenance. "They are typically smarter, tougher, and meaner than his associates. They usually lead parties like this and get the best pick of gear from whatever poor soul they happen to kill."

"Do them markin's mean anything?" Kallian asked, squatting down to take a good look at the Hurlock, partially covering her mouth and nose with a hand as she did.

"Not that we know of," he shook his head slightly, then brought his pack around to rummage into it. "From what I've been told the symbols are Ancient Tevinter in origin, but no one has been able to decipher what they mean."

"Smart enough to know and write these symbols?" Aedan said, frowning mildly. "That is somewhat disturbing."

"It may not mean much, really," he got out a protective case that held four vials in it. "They certainly don't use them to convey messages to one another." He added with something of a mutter, "They don't have need for that."

That made Aedan's eyebrows furrow. The more he was learning about the darkspawn the less he was liking. He knew they were monsters and had become myth-like in the rumors people would hear of them. Gathering in hoards and attacking with impunity, savaging simple travelers or small villages, blindly destroying everything in their path. These were the things he used to know about the darkspawn. Now they retreat, form groups around smarter and stronger ones, are capable of casting spells and can write symbols. This all indicated some way of being able to communicate and if not by messages then how? He was about to ask when Daveth spoke before he could.

"So, maybe its like wearing colors?" Daveth continued when Alistair glanced up at him questioningly. "Like gangs that get tattoos. They all wear the same and they all know what it means when they see the same symbol on a wall. I know several dozen of them that could spot a tag and know exactly who's it be, but the lot of them couldn't read a single word between them, let alone a whole book."

"Huh," Alistair paused at that. "Never thought of that possibility. Didn't think to ask it either. We'll have to ask Duncan later."

The vials that Alistair removed form the case was unlike any Aedan had ever seen before. They were made of crystal, but the topper was made of glass and formed to a needle fine point. He had removed his gauntlets and was currently rolling around in his other hand what looked like crystal made stoppers.

"But since this fellow right here is a little brighter than the others," he took one vial and one stopper in hand, setting down the rest, and looked the hurlock's neck over, "he'll be the one we get the blood from."

Kallian stood up and stepped back a bit to stand between Jory and Daveth, "He? Do all darkspawn be male? Do there be female darkspawn or do you just call the lot of them 'he'?"

Aedan blinked as Alistair pondered the question. It wasn't something that had occurred to Aedan to ask, but now that Kallian had, he had to admit to being curious, too.

"Wellll," he turned the hurlock's head slightly to expose more of its neck, then glanced at her, "they do have the . . . uh . . . appropriate bits. So calling them 'he' or 'him' or whatever male label you want to give them would be accurate. But I can't say I've ever seen a female darkspawn before. Not even certain they exist. Might be another one to ask Duncan."

Daveth chuckled once, "No wonder the darkspawn are always on a rampage. I know I'd go barmy if I was surrounded by nothing but blokes." He nudged Kallian with an elbow. "Good thing you're about, sweets."

She nudged him back, quirking a grin, and Aedan tried not to have his lip twitch. It still bothered him that he was bothered by the thought of them together and this little inappropriate display brought the thought to the forefront again. Aedan wasn't certain why the thought of them together irked him. He'd met people like Daveth before in Highever and had to admit that there were worst sorts out there than him. The issue had to be Kallian, then.

She wasn't his, that was plain. Though they didn't get off on the right foot, they'd made progress and were treating one another on far more friendlier terms. There hadn't been any overtures of wanting the friendship to go further than that from her and he'd done nothing of the sort towards her. So what was the source of it? Why is it every time he sees Daveth looking at her in "that way" that he wants to slide in between the two like a wall?

The thought struck him suddenly, like getting thrown from a horse that's dug its forelegs into the ground abruptly and you sail over its head. He wanted to block, not covet her. It wasn't a case of possession it was a case of wanting to protect her. Daveth _was_ shady and he felt that Kallian was somehow above that. Which was mildly idiotic as the woman was shady herself. Then perhaps . . .

_Perhaps it's a case of you interposing your old feelings about Oralyn onto Kallian and seeing her in a better light than others might not, all for a set of pointed ears,_ he mentally grumbled. _Were it Oralyn had a sister just like Kallian this is exactly what you'd be doing._

Quietly breathing out a sigh through his nose, he turned his attention to what Alistair was doing again.

* * *

Alistair found the vein he was looking for and stabbed the needle point end of the glass tube into the hurlock's neck. The vial quickly began to fill up with black fluid. He was going to have to move fast to get all four vials filled and he hoped he was fast enough for the pressure in the creature's body to hold. This was only the second time he'd done this on the body of a darkspawn. Luckily the technical side of it wasn't any different from doing it to a human or elven body. Find a vein, stick the glass into it, let the vial fill up, pull it out, snap off the topper, then quickly put the stopper in. For the darkspawn he handed the vial over to another Warden. For the humans and elves, he used to hand them over to a templar.

It was the same sort of vial they used to get the blood from a mage for their phylactery. That was a detail the recruits really didn't need to know. There were a lot of details the recruits really didn't need to know.

He wasn't about to say that withholding so much information from them didn't bother him. Part of him wanted to just let them know all of it, right here, right now. The other part of him knew the folly of that road.

_Here, take a good look! This will be the very blood that you will be ingesting in a wonderful little cocktail made just for Wardens. You might die, you might live, and if you live your life is forever changed. So . . . still want to be a Warden? Sure you do! There's death and destruction to behold. It's glorious!_

Alistair could only guess that the slight bitterness he was feeling was due to the notion that these four people could very well be dead by this time tomorrow. Not for dying in battle fighting darkspawn, but for a ritual the Grey Wardens have kept secret for hundreds of years. Because of it he couldn't afford to get close to them and learn more about them. It would only hurt even more if . . . when . . . they die.

His observations of them had to be factual. Were they capable of fighting darkspawn? Yes. Do they hold no prejudices towards one another and can work together? Yes. Did they keep their wits about them before, during, and after the fight? Yes.

He couldn't ask where Jory learned his effective two handed sword technique. He couldn't ask Aedan who exactly did he train under, his father or someone else. He couldn't ask Daveth if his skills were learned or self taught. He couldn't ask Kallian where she learned to fight, period. Those would all be moot questions that would mean absolutely nothing if they didn't pass the Joining.

_"It is a notion all Wardens have to come to terms with, Alistair,"_ Duncan had told him once. _"But the necessity outweighs the grievous emotions, always. They have to or no Warden would ever wish to recruit anyone ever again."_

A fact he had to swallow. Alistair disliked it, but he'd see it done.

"Alright, that's the fourth one," he tucked the bubbling vials back into the case one at a time. "Now we can head back and-"

"Oh Bloody Maker!"

The exclamation came from nearer the fire that the darkspawn had been lingering about. Kallian had apparently wandered away from the rest of them and had been poking around. She had dropped something when they all looked over and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand like she was about to wretch. They saw she wasn't in immediate danger and slowly came over.

"What is it, Kallian?" Aedan was the first to inquire.

Pointing at the ground behind her as she explained, she didn't turn to look at it, "I saw our big boy there arguin' over an item with another afore the fight started. Thought to take a look at what they dropped." In her voice she was obviously fighting the urge to vomit. "It ain't a glove like me thought."

Jory bent to take a look and uttered a gasp, "Oh dear, this isn't good." He looked back over at Aedan. "You might want to take a look, my lord."

Alistair winced a little wishing Jory would stop referring to Aedan as 'my lord'. Even though between the recruits it was becoming a little moot to hide it, should Jory blurt it out in front of people back at camp it could lead to unwanted explanations that shouldn't be revealed just yet. It looked like Aedan was about to correct him yet again until he looked down.

"Oh dear . . . "

That made Alistair come over as well to take a look. The object that Kallian found was a detached arm that was severed midway down the forearm. He could see how, at a distance, it could of been mistaken for a glove. Had it not been for the bright silver colored ring upon one of the fingers, Alistair doubted the darkspawn would have fought over it.

"Do you recognize the ring?" Jory questioned, looking down at the arm again.

Aedan nodded, kneeling down, "Do you?"

Jory also nodded and both of them said at the same time, "Ser Egglemore."

Alistair advanced closer to them, briefly glancing at Kallian to see she was keeping herself steady by putting a hand on Daveth's shoulder. It seemed Daveth was the only one who was indifferent to the situation and he watched on with his arms crossed, waiting.

"I . . . take it you knew this fellow?" he asked Aedan and Jory.

"Ser Egglemore of Redside," Aedan answered softly. "Redside is relatively close to Highever and Ser Egglemore always showed up when there was a tournament or festival. He always wore this ring . . . it was a gift from his wife."

Aedan looked upward to the hanging bodies and his jaw visibly worked, "Maker, bless it . . . these are all men from Redside."

Trying to remain dispassionate, Alistair looked at the corpses. They did all wear the same symbol of a running mabari with a sword in its maw.

"Should we . . , " Jory paused as if hesitant to say what he needed to, " . . . take the ring and have it sent to his wife? Let her know?"

Aedan nodded, looking back down again, "We should. It would be the least we could do."

He could see Aedan struggling both morally and ethically with picking up the arm and trying to wiggle the ring off the finger. Then he heard Daveth audibly "tsk" and watched as he wandered over to them. Kallian remained where she was, but she looked a little better.

"Here," Daveth, with no compunctions, took the arm from Aedan, drew one of his daggers and cut the fingers off at the knuckles. Tossing the arm aside he picked up the finger that had the ring, pulled it easily off, then handed it to Aedan. "Easier that way. Dead parts tend to swell."

Both Aedan and Jory looked at him as if he just kicked a small puppy.

"Have you no respect?" Jory blurted out as the cutpurse went back to Kallian's side. "This was a man we happened to know!"

"He be a _dead_ man you happen to know," he countered. "It's not as if he's going to use those fingers anymore."

"Daveth's the right of it," Kallian added. "We got what we came for and we can't spend all day trying to figure out how not to damage severed limbs for a ring."

"This from a woman who was nearly retching at the sight of it not more than a minute ago?" Aedan retorted.

"Oy, you try picking something up you thought was just a glove and see how your stomach manages it," she responded.

Alistair looked back and forth. Jory and Aedan looking incensed and Daveth and Kallian looking dismissive.

_Oh dear . . . _

Alistair knew there were probably some moral boundaries that would differ between the four and he had to admit to being a little disappointed that Kallian seemed to not have any scruples as far as the human bodies were concerned. He was going to have to note that bit to Duncan later.

"Easy, easy," Alistair said, raising his hands to calm both sides. "Let's not argue about this here. We do need to get back to camp. It wouldn't be good if we get caught out here after sundown. So let's go. Come on."

He motioned the lot of them on. Daveth and Kallian ended up walking far ahead of the others, Jory and Aedan to Alistair's rear. He had a feeling the walk back to camp was going to be a long one.


	12. Ruffled Feathers

_**A/N:**__ Thanks for all the previous comments. :)  
_

_dash . kiwi - She talks 'ow she talks fer a reason, boyo. Annoyin' people jus' may be a bit o' tha' game she plays, ifn ya get me. ;)_

_If my wording or general form seems sub-par, my apologies. I seem to have lost my beta to the Real Life monster.  
_

_Note for those who missed the change in Part 11: Changed the Knight of Redside's name. Sten Cookies to those who get the reference.  
_

* * *

Part 12: Ruffled Feathers

"Look, we're not saying to make like this Ser Ed- . . . whots his name again?"

Aedan sighed in irritation, "Ser Egglemore."

"Right. We're not saying to make like this Ser Egglemore shouldn't mean anything to the two of you. We're saying that there be a time and place to be delicate and that weren't one of them," Kallian crossed her arms and looked at he and Jory.

"And all we're saying is show a little decorum and respect," he repeated for the third time. "Those were men who have died fighting darkspawn. Died fighting to protect Ferelden."

"Hey, at least I didn't suggest to sell the ring," Daveth said as he relaxed on the fallen column. "I was getting it off the finger the quickest way I knew how. Figured if it were that important to you, the last thing you'd want to do is damage the ring by trying to yank it off the hard way."

Aedan opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut. He supposed using that sort of logic it would make sense in a macabre fashion. Maybe he was simply upset because he'd sat and drank with Ser Egglemore not more than a few months ago. It was also perhaps the accompanying thought that Ser Egglemore and the men from Redside could have easily been Fergus and some of their men from Highever. The chill he felt when he realized he could indeed know the men and women lying dead on the field had gotten to him. Logically he understood it could happen, but the effect of it didn't hit until he saw it. He was also feeling guilty that he was _glad_ it wasn't Fergus.

"Honestly speaking, if we could of stayed longer and get all those bodies on a pyre and see to them proper then I wouldn't have minded it," she turned and hopped up lightly to sit next to Daveth. "But as Alistair said, we wouldn't of wanted to get stuck out there till nightfall and with just five of us that's exactly how long it would of taken."

"Long story short, squire, I wasn't meaning to be disrespectful," he draped an arm over a raised knee. "Was meaning to get us out of there and away from the stench. Them things smell worse than the sewer ditches in Pauper's Field."

"And that's sayin' somethin'," Kallian murmured with a nod.

Aedan looked down at the ground a moment, pursing his lips. He was raised learning to be respectful to the dead. The bodies of the dead needed to be treated with reverence and seen to properly least you risk upsetting those who have gone on to the Fade. Especially those who died violent deaths. If you didn't then ghosts and demons invade carrying the rage they had in death back to the land of the living. At least that was what Mother Mallol and some he knew from the Chantry had taught.

The thought of Mother Mallol and the violent deaths the night of Howe's betrayal rushed back at him suddenly. Would the ground that Castle Cousland stood upon suddenly be haunted ground? The fire would have burned any bodies there, but the blood. There was so much blood spilled in rage and violence. When he returned there would the ghosts of his mother, father, and the others be endlessly roaming about?

Physically he shook his head of the thoughts. It wasn't good to do so at this juncture. A camp on the edge of battle where decisive thoughts and actions counted was not the place to ruminate of spirits raising from the dead. The few times he was able to pry out of his father about the battles in his past always came with a simple lesson; leave the dead behind and fight on so you could live and not make those deaths in vain. Not all bodies could be seen to and you could only hope the crows and other carrion feeders would do the job a pyre could not. Though initially unsavory, it seemed both Daveth and Kallian had the right of it.

He huffed out a sigh then looked over to Jory who sat nearby upon a bench, "What have you to say about this?"

Jory frowned faintly, "I still say it was distasteful, but . . . we do now have his ring and can send it to his wife. To give her a sense of closure, at the very least."

Aedan nodded. That settled it. No harm to Ser Egglemore's honor was truly done here, so the mater should be dropped. Before he could say anything, Alistair returned to their camp with Duncan in tow. The others got to their feet and Duncan began speaking.

"Welcome back. Alistair said that you all fared well out there," he looked at them each in turn. "None of you hesitated when it came to battling the darkspawn and you all managed to cooperate with one another, regardless of differences. Well done."

"This mean you get to tell us about the Joining ritual now?" Kallian asked hopefully.

Duncan gave a small exasperated sigh, then gave her a wry smile, "No."

Aedan felt his own shoulders slump and the others had similar reactions. He was also expecting to be finally told what the Joining was all about and shook off the disappointment with a sigh.

"In due time," Duncan continued. "It will take a full day for the mages to prepare what is needed. For tonight, get some food, some rest, and prepare to head out again tomorrow morning."

"What, again?" Jory groused. "Is there more we have to gather for the Joining?"

"No, this has nothing to do with the Joining," he shook his head, "but an effort must be made towards the task and I have every confidence you will all be up to it. Consider this as something to keep you all busy instead of waiting anxiously."

"What is it that we have to do?" Aedan asked, figuring a distraction would be good for them all.

"There was once a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago when we cold no longer afford to maintain such a remote outpost," he explained. "It has recently came to our attention that some scrolls have been left behind, magically sealed to protect them. The task had been given to Alistair, but you four will accompany him. Think of this as your first official Grey Warden assignment even if you are not official Grey Wardens just yet."

"What kind of scrolls are these?" Aedan inquired, feeling intrigued.

Duncan answered as he looked at him, "Old treaties, if you're curious. Promises of support made to the Grey Wardens long ago. They were once considered only formalities. With so many having forgotten their commitments to us, I suspect it may be a good idea to have something to remind them with."

Daveth twisted his lip, "What? We have to remind people that if they don't fight the Blight, the darkspawn will destroy everything?"

"It may sound absurd," Duncan sighed and shook his head, "but time, politics, old hatreds, and Chantry given traditions tend to dilute such basic truths. These treaties are not strictly just to the King of Ferelden and his people. I had hoped that we would have Dwarves, the Dalish, and the mages here at Ostagar already." There was a furrowing of his eyebrows and something of an edge to his voice then, "But convincing people to comply to such a threat is turning out more complicated then it should be."

"But the Circle of Magi are here, are they not?" Jory questioned.

"They are, but there are too few," Duncan stiffened where he stood, obviously trying to temper himself. "The Circle had sent only seven mages. Not nearly the number I had expected. I had planned to head to the Circle Tower to convince the Templars there to release more mages to the cause, but unforeseen circumstances lead me back to Ostagar." Duncan's eyes flitted to Aedan as he said it. "I had wanted to put a mage or two in every contingent. As it is, we will have to manage with what we have for now."

"What if these scrolls ain't there," Kallian tilted her head slightly. "I'm taking it's been, what, decades since the Warden's have been at the outpost?"

"Centuries is more like it, Kallian," Duncan nodded. "It is possible the scrolls may have been destroyed or even stolen, though the seal's magic should have protected them. Only a Grey Warden can break such a seal."

"I don't understand," Alistair interjected. "Why leave such documents in a ruin if they're that important?"

"It wasn't a ruin when the Warden's left it, Alistair. It was assumed we could someday return," he replied, then added more softly. "A great many things were assumed that have not held true."

"Wait a minute," Alistair's face scrunched up in confusion, "you are talking about the same outpost we scouted when we first got to Ostagar, correct?"

"Indeed."

"But I don't recall seeing anything there that looked like it was an archive," he shook his head. "There was nothing but overgrown vegetation, a stone foundation and a few walls and columns."

"I discussed that with Havard," Duncan turned a little in Alistair's direction. "He thinks that perhaps your group might have missed it the first time out. Especially since you were not specifically looking for anything there. It could possibly behind some of those overgrown plants or maybe under some of the collapsed portions of the ruin."

Alistair immediately sighed, "You mean we might have to go digging under stone rubble?"

Duncan gave a simple smile, "You might have to do a bit of labor, yes."

Slumping his shoulders, he looked at Aedan, "All junior Wardens seem to receive the 'missions' involving moving of heavy objects or some other drudgery. We'll need to remember to bring some picks or shovels of some kind."

Aedan tried not to snicker, "That seems to go for any man's army, but I didn't think it would apply to the Grey Wardens."

"No such luck," Alistair grumbled.

"You could always go back to peeling potatoes, you know," Duncan deadpanned at Alistair.

Straightening his posture, Alistair plastered on a smile, "Or we can happily and gladly head out into the dangerous Wilds to retrieve said important documents with no complaints and no grumbling. We may even whistle a happy tune along the way."

The rest of them chuckled while Duncan sighed and shook his head, "You have your task. Alistair will help show you were to get your meals and help with sleeping arrangements. You have the rest of the eve to yourselves. Rest up and I will see you all on the morrow when you return."

* * *

"You're all set," Alistair said as they settled down to a meal of thin stew and bread. "I'll join you again here bright and early tomorrow morning."

"What? Not sticking about to sup with us recruits?" Kallian smiled as she said it. She liked Alistair well enough and if they were going to be junior Wardens right next to him, then it only made sense that they all got to know one another better.

Alistair paused and looked at her. Her eyebrow quirked slightly as she saw something almost mournful in his eyes. It slipped away when he smiled at her, but only slightly.

"Not meaning to be rude, but I . . . I need to speak to the other Wardens about a few matters," he nodded his head, and Kallian got the distinct impression is was more due to being satisfied with the excuse rather than reassuring her of things. "So enjoy your meals, get a good rest. I'll see you all in the morning."

The others gave their good nights to him and Kallian sat herself down on the log being used for a bench. They were given use of the large tent that was supposed to be for Duncan, but he was staying with the other Grey Wardens instead. She found it a little suspicious that they would give simple recruits the use of a nice warm tent near a bonfire, but then she took one look at Aedan and gave a guess it was more for his benefit. It was the only reasonable explanation she could think of. There were logs, benches, and fallen columns they could easily use for seats and they were comfortably spread about in a semi-circle about the fire.

"Do it just be me," she ventured before taking up her bowl and bread, "or does he seem sort o' distant?"

Daveth shook his head, "He's been like that since the start with both me and Jory. Here I thought it had to do with us being blokes, but he seems to be treating a pretty lady such as yourself just the same."

"Go on ya," Kallian grinned as Daveth waggled his eyebrows at her. "Honestly, he seems an alright sort. Maybe he's not supposed to be overly friendly with us till we're officially full Wardens?"

"I think it has more to do with that, rather than having to do with anyone's looks," Aedan said as he broke off a piece of bread. She noted the slightly flat tone in his voice and twisted her lip a little. "Not unusual for newer members of an order to be hazed a little. We'll probably get more of the same from other, more senior members."

"But I would not take it too much to heart," Jory added. "I recall when I was first knighted that some of the other older knights liked to give us younger ones a light ribbing. It is simply meant in jest and a means to make the nervous ones more relaxed."

"Even so, you'd think a bloke who wasn't going to be the most junior member anymore would be a little more excited about having us about," she stated.

"Right," Daveth said with a snort. "Then he can kick us about to lift the bale and tote the barge. And here I thought we were supposed to be doing nothing but fighting darkspawn."

"Someone has to keep the boots clean and armor polished," Aedan said around the bit of bread he chewed, then snapped his fingers. He finished chewing before he said anything more. "Speaking of, any of you know what quality armor the Quartermaster has?"

"Decent enough quality," Jory answered. "Certainly not better then what you already have."

Aedan grunted mildly then tapped the chest of his plate armor with a finger, "Maybe not better, but lighter and without any obvious markings. I can't keep going around wearing the Cousland heraldry when- . . ." he stopped, casting a glance at Jory. Kallian knew what he was trying to get at.

"When you're gonna be a Grey Warden, aye?" Kallian offered.

He looked at her, then gave a small thankful smile for the way out, "Right. A Grey Warden. I should be wearing that symbol soon and no others."

"What about his special stock? Maybe he's got something there that will suit you just right." Kallian suggested.

"Oy!" Daveth snapped a look at her and it took a second for Kallian to realize what she just did.

"Special stock?" Jory asked in confusion.

"Oooh, sod," she winced and looked at Daveth. "Just let the cat out of the bag, didn't I?"

"Right out, luv, right out. Point Charly out to 'em why don'tcha?" he sighed in dismay.

"Weren't _trying_ to be a snitch, clinker," she shifted uncomfortably where she sat. "Just trying to help a bloke, eh?"

Aedan gave an audible sigh, "As amusing as these backstreet colloquialisms are, just _what_ are you talking about?"

Daveth stood and pointed a finger at him, "Hey, hey! That seventy-five bit word best not be some sort of insult to the lady here."

She saw Aedan give Daveth an even look and sensed the air starting to bristle between them again. That brought Aedan's attitude to light again and gave Kallian the notion to take an opportunity while it presented itself.

Patting Daveth's arm lightly, she stood up with a light grin, "Easy, boyo. He was talking about how we was talking. No offense meant." She looked at Aedan as she explained, "The Quartermaster has some extra stock he's got for sale. Probably wares he's collected himself to sell on the side. He might have something lighter with stronger straps and thicker padding to it. I can help you talk to him about it."

Jory sat up a bit, his eyebrows furrowing, "Are you to say the Quartermaster is selling things that are not from the King's army supplies? He shouldn't be doing that!"

She glanced at Daveth who rolled his eyes and sat himself back down with a shake of his head.

"Hey, don't knock it," she said, flicking a finger at one of the daggers at her hips. "Managed to get me a far better set of blades and armor than the army supply could offer."

"That is taking coin out of the crown's coffers, you know," Aedan quirked an eyebrow up at her. He didn't say it in an accusing tone and it sounded like he just want to make sure she was aware of the facts and possible consequences.

"And putting it towards protecting my hide and your backs with better gear," Kallian crossed her arms, knowing full well what it all meant. "I call it a fair exchange."

Aedan's eyes narrowed at her for only a second, then a small grin showed, "Alright. I'll buy that. I take it you know what to say to the Quartermaster to get him to show his extra wares?"

Nodding as he stood, Kallian motioned with a hand, "Can probably even get him to shave a few bits off the final price."

"You mean you condone this?" Jory said, obviously disbelieving. "You are a lord of the realm, the King is your peer. You would stoop to something like this?"

Aedan quirked an eyebrow at him, "Jory, there are worst things a person could do than buying better armor from a minor black market. I rather would spend the coin on something worth our collective lives."

"Should I come along?" Daveth asked almost too quickly, interrupting any further protests from Jory. Looking at him she saw his eyes flick back and forth between herself and Aedan. "Y'know, help whittle the Quartermaster down even further or something?"

"S'aright," Kallian shook her head lightly. "Think I can manage."

Daveth twisted his lip just a little bit, the corner of his mouth turning downward. When his eyes glanced at Aedan one more time with the tiniest hint of a glare, she inwardly sighed. Saying nothing further, she set off on her way towards the Quartermaster. Aedan caught up and matched her moderate pace.

"So nothing so bright and clanky, aye?" she started, thinking it best to start with the easy small talk.

"Or as heavy, as I said," he removed one of the metal bracers, revealing a set of leather ones underneath. "Had the weather not been so chilled I probably would have sweated five pounds right off while we were out there."

Looking at him from head to toe, she shook her head, "Hmm, doesn't look like the most comfortable outfit to take a stroll in, no. How did you manage to keep it going on our trip here?"

"We weren't fighting along the way, for one," he opened and closed his hand, flexing it a few times. "And overall we didn't have much to carry along the way. On the road we were guaranteed some rest at night, but here we aren't sure when the next attack will be or for how long we'll be fighting or how long we'll need to travel. Rest might not come to us for stretches of days."

"Sound like you know what you be talking about," she tilted her head slightly. "You ever been in a big battle like this before?"

"Never a campaign this large, no," he looked around, surveying the various tents and soldiers. "There hasn't been anything this large since the days of the rebellion. I've only been through smaller hunts. Bandits, highwaymen, particular Banns becoming unruly. Fought an apostate mage and his bandit group once, but Father and others have taught me enough to know a little of what to expect here."

Kallian was quiet for a moment, then she started to snicker, "So you'll be popping your proverbial battlefield maidenhead here too, eh?"

* * *

Aedan had gotten used to some of her sense of humor along the way to Ostagar, but on some occasions she still caught him off guard and wondering just how crass her humor could get. This was one such occasion.

He nearly tripped over his own feet and looked at her in near horror, "Oh for Maker's Sake, you would put it that way wouldn't you?"

She simply laughed. There was no doubt in Aedan's mind that she was enjoying the joke just for his reaction. If he was going to get used to it, then he best start giving as good as he was getting.

Straightening his shoulders, he said suggestively with a light grin, "Well, I'm not saying I don't know where to put the battering ram, but the first time through the gate is always a rough go."

His statement left Kallian blinking at him with a slightly shocked expression and Aedan couldn't help but laugh at the look.

After a second she started laughing again as well, "Alright, alright. Tit for tat. I see how it goes now."

He had to admit it felt good to laugh a little. Genuinely laugh and act somewhat normal again. Only somewhat. Then her grin started to disappear and the laugh lines around her eyes eased.

"It be a shame, though," her voice was softer now and she looked to his chest and the Cousland heraldry etched into the metal. "To have to hide what you are, I mean. Not wear your family's crest cause of what happened." She looked up at him again. "That bother you?"

Looking at the leather bracers with his family symbol on it, his steps slowed, "I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me. Rather still wear it if I could get away with it."

Her head tilted in the other direction, also looking at the bracers, "Then why not hold on to a bit of it? Just keep hold of those and keep them covered when you wear them."

He grunted once, "I suppose I could, but I will be a Warden now so . . . " Even as he said it he felt his own eyebrows furrow.

"Doesn't mean you're not part of your family anymore," Kallian shook her head. "You can't get rid of the fact you're a Cousland anymore than I can get rid of the fact I'm an elf."

With it spoken so simply it made perfect sense for him to keep the bracers if nothing else. They _were_ gifted to him by his mother.

He nodded after a while, "You're right about that."

"Course I'm right," she immediately answered and gave an indignant sniff.

Aedan could only snort, grin, and shake his head at that. As they walked on, an uncomfortable silence started to filter in between the two of them. He didn't want it there and he couldn't explain why it was sinking in. Half of it did have to do with her. She was suddenly oddly quiet, looking around as if looking for something to talk about. Aedan also was coming up short on what to say to her now. There were several things he could say, but he wanted to avoid them right now.

"So . . . what's your gripe with Daveth?"

Shooting a look at her he saw that she was an odd picture of calm. Kallian had clasped her hands behind her back, looking at him expectantly.

"I don't have a gripe with Daveth," he said, glancing back to make sure they were out of earshot.

"Go on ya," she shook her head, some of her short black locks falling into her face with the motion. "I know when a bloke has got a problem with another bloke and you've got one. It be a little obvious."

He sighed and started to look anywhere except back at her, "I've more of a problem with the way the two of you . . . treat each other."

"You mean us carrying on with the flirting?" her tone was far too smug for his liking.

He didn't dare look at her and, try as he might, he couldn't stop himself from gritting out his words, "Yes, the flirting. This isn't the time or place for such behavior, Kallian."

"Then I suppose we're supposed to wait till after we possibly die to do it?" she let out a small huff of breath. "It just be a little fun, for Maker's Sake. It's not like we're smuggling in ale and getting pissed enough to lay with one another."

"Might as well be," Aedan mumbled under his breath, but before she could ask or react he continued. "We're at the edge of battle here, not celebrating Satinalia in Antiva. It's one thing to keep your morale up, but another to keep doing it to the point of distracting yourselves and others." The next words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop it and even as he said them he looked over at Kallian with the realization it was not the right thing to say, "Besides that, I think you could do better than him."

"What?" her arms dropped to her sides and she stopped walking to turn and look at him. Her eyebrows were fully furrowed and the incredulous stare she gave him confirmed that his words were definitely the wrong ones to use.

_Oh, that's just marvelous_, Aedan berated himself. _Stick your foot firmly in your mouth, why don't you? Here, let me slather it with butter so it fits in easier._

He sighed and raised his hands in the form of surrender, "What I mean is -"

"_You_ think I can do betta than 'im?" he winced as her words interrupted him. He already knew that the thickness of her accent was equivalent to just how upset she was and this time some of her words were slurring together. "Oh, well, then I'll jus' go ahead 'n spurn Daveth because _your_ vaunted wisdom and insights are just sooo much keener than mine. All that time ya spent bein' _lord_ o'er others most certainly gives you that soddin' right ta tell me something like that!"

The way her voice oozed with sarcasm immediately set him on edge, his voice came out with more bite than he really meant to use, "I thought you understood I'm not like that."

"Do I? Really? I know you so well?" she snapped. "Look, I might owe you for doin' what I did ta you, but tha' don't be a flag o' surrender I be wavin' so you can go ahead and rule o'er me, _m'lard_."

"Rule over you?" he repeated, now the one to look at her with an incredulous stare. "And you don't owe me a damn thing, woman. What are you on about?"

"You know what I'm on about," she almost looked ready to spit. "And I ain't havin' it! I don't belong to you 'n I ain't your soddin' property neither! I'll see who I like, when I like, and if you don't soddin' like it then tha' be just too soddin' bad!"

Kallian stormed off, but he was too taken aback to think to reach out and grab her. Rule over her? Owe him? Not his property?

_Sweet Maker, and here I thought we'd gotten over the notion that I was some domineering, autocratic, despot_, he frowned at her back as she continued to stomp away. _Or maybe her outburst was just anger talking.  
_

He noted other soldiers looking at them both oddly. Their voices _had_ risen rather considerably. With a shake of his head he continued on his way to the quartermaster. Any aid she was about to give him had just been abolished and calling out to her was just going to gather more attention to them.

Aedan knew she wasn't going to take his words well, but the way she had quickly turned irrational was jarring. How he was going to tackle opening up talks with her again without her snapping his head off wasn't immediately coming to his mind. He had thought they'd developed enough of a rapport that he could be a little candid with her. Such was apparently not the case. Trying to figure how her mental recesses worked was almost beyond his ken. Perhaps it did have to do with the fact she was elven. He did his best to try and overlook the fact as he always did with any of her kind he'd come across. It was a habit he tried to develop on his own ever since his time with Oralyn.

_What would you have said to all of this, Ora? Am I wrong to think that Kallian could do better? Am I judging her too high and Daveth too low? Or do I not have the right to judge at all?_

Thinking of Oralyn made his heart ache. She was out there, somewhere, right now. Hopefully hiding from Howe's men and keeping herself safe. She wasn't dead and he had Kallian to thank for that.

_And it's perhaps why you do think highly of her,_ his steps slowed a tad. _She had helped your people escape certain death without doing it for rewards or accolades. You know she has a good heart . . . and Daveth you are still unsure about, but only because you just met the man today. Ugh, Aedan, you are judging too soon, give the man some room to prove himself. He's to be a brother-in-arms so best start treating him as such. And just what right do you have to say who Kallian can and can't be with.  
_

He was going to have to apologize to her. For judging, for thinking he had the right to try and protect her, for immediately doubting Daveth, all of it. Perhaps he could crack the ice and jokingly say that next time he'll wait a few days before acting the overprotective brother. Provided Daveth didn't suddenly challenge him when he got back to camp.

_Cooperate with one another, despite our differences, _he mentally sighed. _Right._

* * *

_**A/N:** Next Chapter - Feather Patterns_


	13. Feather Patterns

_**A/N:**__Thanks for the comments, as always. Gives me encouragement to continue. __I make no apologies for the two year wait. I don't abandon stories, I just get horribly distracted._

* * *

**Part 13: Feather Patterns**

"So is this the part where you drag me off to some secluded spot and have your way with me outta sheer spite?"

"Yes, Daveth, we're going to make mad passionate love on the freezing stones of these ruins for hours on end and come stumbling back to the tent at First Bell while walking funny and Jory asking why we're all scraped up on our backsides."

"The idea of Jory eyeballing my backside long enough to notice something like that shrivels my bits," Daveth shivered once. "If you intend to have me perform you're going to have to warm up those words, luv, and not mention any blokes ogling me."

Kallian barked a single laugh, "Alright then. That blond number I overheard you chatting up sees the error of her ways and comes running back to you, then while in the throes of passion she asks why you're smelling like another woman."

Daveth grinned wide, "Now that's more like it! Let's get this thing started, have some fun and get back at Lord Jealousy, right?"

He opened his arms and pursed his lips like a fish for a kiss. Looking at him flatly, she planted the palm of her hand on his forehead, preventing him from getting any nearer.

"I'm not about to lay with you just to get back at him, ya git," she scoffed.

He was already chuckling as she pushed him away in a playful manner. The playfulness calmed her nerves some, but perhaps not enough.

When she came stomping back to their camp, she snagged Daveth and snapped at Jory just to say they were going for a walk. Daveth had only protested as he wasn't done with his stew, but he came along despite it. Once she got to ranting at him about Aedan's words, the anger in her gut dissipated a good deal. She was still upset, but at least now she could think clearer. Unfortunately, she was also beginning to feel sheepish, which only kept her on the verge between being embarrassed and being angry in general.

"Well then, what are you going to do?" He tucked his arms back under his cloak as they both continued to walk through the camp and ruins. "If this keeps up he might think to do me off and kill the competition."

"There _is_ no soddin' competition," Kallian quipped. "There be nothin' between me and him. He can go on and be jealous and judging if he wants. I ain't his. Just like I ain't yours."

He raised an eyebrow and muttered out in a dejected tone, "Well, just close the door on my face, why don't you?"

A frustrated sigh escaped from her, "That' not what I meant."

"Then just what do you mean?" Daveth stopped and looked at her. "Look, I'm not tryin' to take the man's side, but you do have something of a chip on your shoulder. If there's something he's done to you to be this way... "

Kallian felt her eyebrows furrow before coming to a stop as well in order to face him, "Well, y'know he's . . . I mean, he's got the title and all that and you know how them noble sods can be."

"Whot, rich?"

"No," she huffed. "You know, all thinkin' he's better than us and can push us around, do things to us, and tell us how to live and all that."

"Wait, wait," Daveth held up a hand. "I thought you were alright with the squire leading the way for us."

"I am, but that's not what I'm talking about!"

"Then what are you talking about?"

"That... well, you know," she motioned at him as if that would explain all her thoughts in a nutshell.

Daveth shook his head, "No, I don't. Just tell me straight up what he's done to you. That way I can feel justified when I break my fist on his chin."

His grin and the joke did nothing to alleviate the tension in her furrowed brow. She didn't say anything and only gave another frustrated sigh, starting again on their aimless walk. Hearing Daveth catch up with her, she let her mind simmer on the fact that she couldn't point at one thing that Aedan had done to her that would have justified her outburst. She did think Aedan was thinking too much of himself by putting Daveth down as he did. It certainly spurred her temperament to a quick flash fire of words, but if she had just spoke instead of shouted, reasoned instead of raging, then maybe she would still be back there helping him get a set of armor instead of off sulking with Daveth for really no good reason.

Kallian managed to put her own hackles up about Aedan from the get go. Lord Aedan Cousland of Highever was just another noble's son, just like- . . .

_No_, she thought with a tinge of bitterness, _he's not like him at all_.

"Look, if you don't want to explain, you don't have to," Daveth said, interrupting her thoughts. "We only met jus' today and though we seem to be hittin' it off …" He let the sentence drop and Kallian looked over at him in question, "It's none of my business if you got some history with him or something."

"It's not him," she admitted, and then shifted her shoulders to adjust her own cloak and keep it tightly around her as a chill breeze wafted. "It be someone else and I've jus been . . ." she gave a hapless shrug, "taking it out on him."

"Someone else?" he asked. "And who is this bloke that's earned your ire?"

Again, Kallian hesitated, but this time she looked around. There was hardly anyone nearby to overhear and she looked at Daveth, wondering if he could trust him. She wanted to tell someone, _needed_ to. Duncan already knew and with Aedan she was honestly too afraid to talk to about it. He might have overlooked her stealing his family sword, but out and out killing a fellow noble? Rendon Howe killing his family was one thing. He was a noble. She was just an elf and justice never worked the same for one of her kind.

Daveth was cut from a different cloth. He knew what it was like in the slums of the city. He knew the masses that huddled around Pauper's Field and the high walls of the alienage with its high built wooden huts that threatened to spill right over them. He knew the alleyways to stick to and the ones to avoid. He was common born, common bred, and could beat a living off of the streets. Daveth had that swagger one can only earn by living that way and through it Kallian felt a certain kinship.

_Cutpurses and elves are one in the same_, she remembered a shem saying once. That was enough to convince her.

Coming to a full stop again, she looked at him square, and spoke after a short huff of breath, "Can you keep a secret?"

* * *

Aedan came back to camp, tightening the cloth strap about the padded leather bracers he kept. He managed to procure a serviceable set of chainmail from the Quartermaster at a very fair price, mostly due to trading in his much finer set of Cousland engraved armor. The Quartermaster was almost hesitant to take it, but he did after telling him to sell it only through his "special stock". It was almost a case of blackmail, but the Quartermaster was much easier to deal with after letting him know he knew of it. Getting to the fire, he stopped and looked around. Jory still sat in the same seat he was in, a second serving of stew in his hands, but the other two that Aedan wanted to speak to were not there.

"Where are Kallian and Daveth?"

"She came back not long after you two walked off," he answered after wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "She said something about going for a walk, grabbed her cloak, grabbed Daveth and off they went."

Aedan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Great."

"I know it is none of my business," Jory started, looking at him a little worriedly, "but was there a problem between you and the elf woman?"

A pang of irritation hit him and he frowned, "Her name is Kallian, you know."

Jory's eyes widened just a little, seeing that he committed some sort of faux pas, "I did not mean to offend, I simply... Sorry, my Lo- . . ." He stopped himself with a wince and sighed. "I am sorry, _Aedan_, I am having difficulty trying to break old habits."

Aedan let his shoulders relax and he shook his head lightly, "This situation is new for all of us. We're all supposed to be on equal footing, yet all we seem to be doing right now is stepping on each others toes." He offered a short smile to Jory. "Hopefully we'll get used to things in time, so don't take offense should I correct you every so often."

"Please do correct me, m- Aedan," he offered back a sheepish smile. "It is becoming apparent I need the help." Aedan chuckled once, but then Jory set him with that worried look, "So is there a problem between yourself and Kallian?"

Unsure if he should say anything he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Was there a problem? Yes. Should he babble about it to Jory like some fishwife who just wants to complain? No. He was about to say as such, when he saw Kallian and Daveth returning. Both of them looked at him as they neared.

Kallian, while not looking as angered, still glowered at him as she passed by. Without a word she went into the tent, closing the tent flap behind her with an audible "fwoomp".

When Daveth approached, Aedan squared his shoulders expecting something of a confrontation, but something about Daveth gave him room for pause. The man was looking at the tent rather than him and he was shaking his head. There was a mixture of concern and amusement on his face. If anything, Daveth almost looked exasperated.

"So," he started, then looked at Aedan, "I hear you and she had something of a spat."

"I take it she spoke to you," was his quiet response.

"Oh, a right earful, squire," a grin turned up on his lips. "Your ears must have been burning."

Aedan couldn't quite read Daveth. He didn't look upset, but that grin made him leery. Did he have some sort of ploy to get back at him at some later date? Was he going to put Aedan at ease only to stab him in the back later? Unable to decide, he chose to do what he thought of earlier. He'd have to deal with the consequences later.

"Look, I need to apologize-"

"Oh, come on," Daveth interrupted. "You ain't got nothing to apologize for. Not your fault she's touchy."

He felt his eyebrow quirk up. It certainly wasn't a reaction he was expecting.

"But what I said about you ...," Aedan's words came to a stop as Daveth was already waving him off.

"All you said was the truth, squire. She _could_ do better than me," the grin on his face widened at his self deprecation. "It's no lie that I ain't the squarest one around these parts. I think it's good you're looking out for her like that. Keep it up. She might not like it right now, but just give her time. She's got her reasons."

The words were vaguely familiar. Something similarly said to him back in Highever. Kallian hadn't just told Daveth about what he said, she told him about what Duncan had only hinted at before. Suddenly, Aedan did feel a pang of jealousy. She had trusted Daveth, a man she met that morning, with her story, but not him.

_She might have earned your trust,_ Aedan thought, _but what trust have you engendered with her?_

"She's told you things?" he hazarded, fighting the urge to ask Daveth everything.

"She's told me enough," the grin faded as he glanced at the tent once. "Just between us three, since Jory do be listening in ..."

"Should I leave?" Jory replied in an indignant tone.

Daveth smirked and shook his head before continuing, "We're all in this now. We got to work together, aye? So between us three I can safely say that she's got her reasons for being that way. Just know that it ain't you, squire."

"I ...," he almost didn't know what to say. It felt odd to have Daveth reassure him of things when Aedan felt he didn't deserve the kind treatment. At the same time, he felt as if he could now commiserate with Daveth on Kallian's behavior. An ally where he thought he had an enemy.

"That is a relief," he managed to say, then looked at the tent, "I'd still like to make amends, though."

"Bah," Daveth waved a hand dismissively, "just let her stew in her own juices for a while. She needs to get over a few things. If she can't then she needs to get over herself."

Again, Daveth surprised him. While the words were less eloquently said, they reflected Duncan's sentiments. Even though the man was obviously attracted to her, he apparently wasn't agreeing to her thoughts. That spoke loudly of his character. Aedan was likely wrong to misjudge.

Thoughts began to realign in his head, then he grinned lightly while motioning at him, "She seems to take to you better. Perhaps if you kept talking to her, then maybe she'll stop jumping down my throat every time I jar her sensibilities."

"No promises, but I'll see what I can do, squire," Daveth replied while returning the smile.

Aedan paused, then held his hand out to give him the proper greeting he should have at the start, "Just call me Aedan, please."

The smile faded from Daveth's face to be replaced by a surprised look. Apparently it wasn't the reaction he was expecting either. After a second, the grin returned and he clasped Aedan's forearm, "Alright, Aedan. You can call me anything but a bastard. I know who my father is."

He had to laugh at that. The word had crossed his mind a time or two, "I think I'll just call you Daveth."

"Fair enough. Now where's my bowl of stew? I'm starving."

* * *

_**A/N:** __Next chapter - Vultures Picking Up Stones_


	14. Vultures Picking Up Stones

_**AN:** Interesting bird fact: Egyptian vultures use stones to drop on to ostrich eggs to try and crack open its thick shell to get to the yolk inside.  
_

* * *

**Part 14: Vultures Picking Up Stones**

"How long do you think she's going to keep glowering like that for?" Daveth asked under his breath.

"Who knows," Aedan grunted quietly as he picked up a large stone. "Probably until we get on our knees, begging for forgiveness."

"I take it something happened last night?" Alistair asked just as quietly. He took the stone from Aedan and tossed it on the pile they were making.

Daveth chanced a glance up to where Kallian stood guard, "Something happened, but frankly I think she's making a mountain out of a molehill."

"She might be blowing things out of proportion, Daveth," Aedan added. "But I was still the one to make that molehill."

"Well _our_ hill isn't going to get any smaller with you all talking away," Jory interjected as he yanked back on the pick. The act made more stone wall and dirt to tumble downward. "I really don't want to be stuck out here after nightfall, especially this far from camp."

"That I can agree with," Alistair said, "but I do need to know if this is going to be problematic for us. Will it get into the way of her working with us?"

Aedan sighed and looked over at Kallian. She stood there, her arms crossed, eyes trained on the surrounding area. Delicate lips were still curled downward making her look more severe than usual. Apparently she sensed his eyes on her and she turned her head in his direction. Their eyes met and the glare he received felt all too familiar. It was as if any progress he'd made with her was gone and it was the first day he met her all over again. She looked away and walked further from them to watch things from beyond a ruined wall.

She had worn that frown since that morning. Kallian was the last to wake and Daveth had the unfortunate circumstance of being the one to rouse her. Her aggravation was great enough that she took a swipe at Daveth when he pressed the issue. Aedan tried to feel some sympathy or conjure up some empathy, but there was time for neither. They needed to get on the move before the sun rose too high in the sky, so fewer words and more action were needed. They set out into the cold, fog-dampened wilds with a permanent scowl etched on Kallian's face.

It only worsened as they traveled on. Daveth apparently felt so put off by her general air that he spent most of the time avoiding her. He talked to Aedan instead, sharing with him his thoughts on the Joining ritual and his annoyance with Jory's constant mentioning of "his Helena". Every so often they would glance back at Kallian and see that the frown remained. They could only sigh, shake their heads at one another, and carry on.

A few times, Kallian drifted back farther than necessary, sometimes out of sight. It made him wonder if she wouldn't just drift off all together and go her own way. The thought worried him enough that he started to suggest to Daveth that he speak to her. Nothing came of it, unfortunately, as just when Daveth was about to agree, the darkspawn appeared. Somehow Alistair had spotted them long before the rest and set everyone quickly into motion.

There were more this time around. They were better armored and all were of the hurlock variety. With no time to make a strategy, they had to simply fight them as they came. Luckily, the land was laid out where they could only came at them from one direction. A part of him had worried about Kallian's ability to keep up in a blade to blade fight, but he was quickly shown his worry was moot.

Out of the corner of his eye he witnessed her tearing into whatever darkspawn she was facing like a Mabari tearing into a rabbit. The skill he'd seen before when she had sparred with Duncan was only a quarter of what she was exhibiting now. There was a viciousness to her cuts and a ruthlessness in her methods. Just as she felled one enemy, she turned and made short work of the one Jory was facing. It made one thing dreadfully clear to Aedan. Kallian was a better short blade fighter than she was an archer. He ended up storing away the underestimation for later as he had to pay attention to his own fight.

The battle was quickly over, but they didn't come off unscathed. Jory received a decent bruise on his arm, Daveth had the wind knocked out of him and scraped up an elbow, and Aedan had an arrow nick the back of his thigh through the cloth where the armor didn't cover. Had Kallian not been in the hurlock's face when it had fired, the arrow probably would have hit its mark. Aedan was grateful, but at the same time it bothered him that she had charged to blindly forward. When he tried to bring the issue up with her all he got was a single surly reply.

"It got the fight done, didn't it?"

Then she proceeded to scour the darkspawn corpses for anything of use. Aedan couldn't argue the point. Least not while she wasn't in a receptive mood. He went about helping Daveth back on his feet and used some of the salve to staunch the bleeding from the cut on his leg, leaving Kallian to plunder what spoils she could find.

They made it to the outpost by mid-morning. From initial impressions it didn't look like much of anything was there. Aedan was beginning to doubt they'd find much of anything when Alistair pointed out a collapsed section of the ruins. It looked like there was a blocked off stone archway and potentially a set of stairs that went downward. With nothing else looking even remotely promising there wasn't much else to do but to break out the picks and shovels and get to work.

That was where they found themselves now.

Aedan rolled Alistair's question around in his mind. Despite her current attitude she did get the fight done. It was in a more reckless manner then he cared for, but he liked to think the prowess she showed was a form of affirmation that she was there to eradicate the darkspawn. Least he hoped that's what it was.

"No," Aedan muttered, then shook his head lightly and spoke clearer. "No, it won't get in the way of things. She might not be fond of us, but she will help with fighting the darkspawn. We'll just have to deal with her being prickly as a porcupine for now."

"If you did apologize for your," Alistair motioned a hand at Aedan, "_molehill_ . . . do you think that would help? More honey, less vinegar?"

"That's the problem," Daveth replied, leaning on the shovel he used, "hard to tell if apologizing is going to work or if it's just going to upset her all the more."

Alistair looked confused, "Why would apologizing make her more upset?"

"You don't know a thing about women getting mad, do you?" Daveth shook his head at Alistair.

"I got my Helena mad once," Jory interjected.

Daveth looked at Aedan and gave an eye roll that said, _Here we go again_.

Aedan gave him a mildly scolding look while Jory continued, "Even after I apologized, she was still upset at me for a whole two days. And she's a far gentler creature than Kallian is, that's for certain."

"A _bear_ is a gentler creature than she is," Daveth took his shovel up to move more dirt out of the way. "Did you see the way she cut that hurlock down?"

"Which one?" Aedan got his hands busy again with moving rock. "There were several."

"That's what I'm saying," Daveth replied. "She does all that with just two blades and a bad attitude. Imagine what she'd do if she was actually mad at us."

"Wait," Alistair raised a hand, "first she's mad and now she isn't?"

"Well, not _really_ mad," he dumped more soil away. "She's I'm-not-talking-to-you-and-gonna-glare-all-day mad. Not kill-you-and-dump-you-in-the-Drakon-River mad. Big difference, that."

"Long story short," Jory said with a hint of agitation. "It is going to take a while for her to not be angry and it will be up to her when she decides she isn't. So for now," he pulled hard on a particularly stubborn rock, "we ... do... nothing ... but ... dig!"

The rock gave way and a good deal of stone and soil fell. So much tumbled down that both Aedan and Alistair had to move out of the way. When it finally settled, Jory got up on the rubble again to peer at it.

"Seems we managed to make a hole," he took the pick and started clearing more away. "However, the hole is rather small."

"Can you see anything inside?" Alistair asked.

"I can not see a thing. It's too dark."

"Keep working at it then," he told Jory. Alistair then looked at Aedan. "I'd suggest we get a couple of torches going for whichever of us gets to go in there."

"I'll get on that," Daveth said, not hesitating to hand the shovel over to Aedan.

"Anything to get out of the drudge work, right?" Aedan snorted.

Daveth grinned wide and shrugged, "I'm not built like the rest of you blokes. Weak fellow like myself has to take it easy, you know."

"Uh-huh," Alistair wasn't buying it either. "Just get the torches lit and get back to helping us out here."

* * *

_Damn them. Damn the lot of them._

Kallian had a feeling that the moment she told Daveth her story that it might have been the wrong thing to do. Something had shifted in his attitude toward her and while he sounded sympathetic to her plight, he peppered her with questions on what it all had to do with Aedan. Every question only made it more and more glaring that she didn't have a leg to stand on. In the end, she begrudgingly agreed, but she still thought Aedan's comment was unwarranted.

Then she overheard snippets of the conversation between Aedan and Daveth from within the tent. Not only did Daveth agree with Aedan's assessment of him, he thought that she needed to "stew in her own juices" and "get over herself". It sent her anger soaring right back up where it started. She didn't head out to holler at them, though. Kallian would have been outnumbered three to one - because Jory would have certainly sided with _his Lordship_ - and they could have gotten her into trouble with Duncan.

So she kept to herself and curled into the corner of the tent where her bedroll was. That night she pretended to sleep and waited for the others to slip into deep slumber. When she heard the snores and shallow breathing, she ventured out. There were things she wanted to see and she had a key to a chest she needed to find. A tiny voice in her mind had warned her about being on parole, but a louder voice said to screw it. All she needed to do was to make sure she didn't get caught.

And she didn't get caught, not even when she woke the Quartermaster to trade in some of what she found for a good deal of silver. She figured that even if the mages went to find their missing goods that the Quartermaster would feign ignorance. He certainly wouldn't have wanted to be caught with his "things on the side" and risk being jailed like that deserter. Calling her out would have been as good as putting the noose around his own neck.

Kallian got back to the tent with more coin in her purse, but with only a few hours of sleep to spare. When Daveth shook her awake, she wanted nothing more than to curl back into her bedroll and close her eyes till midday. She snapped at him when he became insistent. None of them cared about her plight, so she grumbled and glared the whole time she got herself ready.

As Alistair lead the way to the outpost, a part of her began to suspect that Daveth had already broke his promise to her and that he told Aedan everything. The more they journeyed, the more she believed she was right. They kept casting unsure glances at her, shaking their heads, and muttering among themselves. They didn't speak to her and hardly noticed when she'd peel off to pick up something she noticed.

When the darkspawn came, she welcomed it. The spite she had held in her heart since coming to Ostagar lashed out. It wasn't a hurlock she was cutting down, but the Arl of Denerim. It was the king she couldn't scream at for not knowing what happened right under his nose in his own capital city. It was the Quartermaster who immediately thought her a servant and the Ash Warrior that scoffed at her being "another blasted elf". For every person who would question why she was "dressed so preposterously" or eyed her with suspicion, she crafted a hit or a cut to hurt and maim. It was something she knew she wouldn't be able to do to those ... sodding shems. Nor would she ever. Not for words. But the anger was there so she took it out on the creatures that needed to die.

Kallian took pride in the fact that she landed the killing blow on four of them, taking two completely on her own. Then Aedan had the gall to complain about her charging the enemy after she did more than her fair share of the fighting. Her direct words silenced him and she took some satisfaction from that.

Killing the darkspawn did take some of the starch out of her anger, but now that anger was being replaced by thoughts of the thing she feared. She could tell they were muttering between each other, purposefully keeping their voices low so she wouldn't overhear. There was no doubt in her mind that she was the subject of their conversation. When she caught Aedan looking at her in a judging fashion, that told her everything she needed to know. He knew, he judged, and now found her company wanting.

Who wanted to associate with a human-killing knife-ear after all?

They were going to ostracize her. They would keep her out of their conversations. They would sup in a corner away from her, never offering a seat. They would do all the little petty things that petty men often did to people they disliked, but couldn't kill. That was worse than going to the Arl of Denerim to turn her in. That was worse than plying to Duncan to release her because they didn't think she was worthy. It was worse than simply calling her knife-ear all the time to try pressing her till her temperament would cause her to react.

_Don't let anyone tell you that you don't belong._

Kallian sighed and eyed the ground a moment. Teyrn Loghain's words rang in her mind over and over. He had mentioned about a female Grey Warden, but perhaps he also had meant about her elven heritage as well. Maybe he knew she'd face this sort of treatment, warranted or unwarranted. Whatever reason he had for saying it, she held on to the words and stiffened her spine with it.

They could cut her out of a lot of things, but they couldn't stop her from doing her duty. She owed it to Duncan and she'd pay him back several times over for saving her life. Kallian was going to need to be strong and needed to be stalwart. Sod the rest of them and their judgement of her. She'd show them that not only did she belong, she'd excel.

A sudden noise to her left brought her head back up. Her hands quickly rested on the pommels of her daggers, ready to draw.

_Wonderful_, she immediately chastised herself. _Try to excel and immediately fail as a lookout._

The noise happened again, but this time it was paired with the appearance of a raven flying to the top of a column. After looking around more to make sure the raven hadn't been frightened out of its spot by something more deadly, Kallian let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Really," she looked up at the raven who looked back down at her with a beady black eye. She got the impression that the bird was looking down its nose at her in a haughty manner, as if it just proved to her how badly she was doing.

"Alright, alright," she grunted. "More looking out and less looking in. I hear you."

The black bird tilted its head in a curious fashion at her. The mannerism reminded her of another animal that did the same to her before. A mild frown returned as the last thing she needed to recall right now was a dead dog. More so, who that dead dog used to belong to. Someone she no longer had a chance of making friends with.

"Don't you need to be feasting on a carcass somewhere," she told it in irritation, then wrinkled her nose in thought, "or have the darkspawn made that idea unappetizing?"

The raven didn't answer and she certainly wasn't expecting a response, but it did turn its head to look at her with its other eye and took a little hop-step in her direction.

"Hey, I'm not dead yet," she wagged a finger at it, "and I don't give hand outs when there's plenty enough around for you to have. So, shoo already."

"Taking to talking to the wildlife, I see."

Kallian turned quick, hand going to one of her daggers. Alistair stood there with a slightly amused look on his face and a torch in his hand.

He raised his free hand in an act of supplication, "Easy there, now. I'm on your side."

She let out another sigh of relief, but then quickly frowned in annoyance. Kallian only had herself to blame for distracting herself twice in a row. Had the raven or Alistair been darkspawn she'd be dead by now.

Drawing herself up, she relaxed her shoulders and crossed her arms. Kallian couldn't tell how their Grey Warden minder felt by looking at him, but he didn't seem like he was about ready to give her the cold shoulder. Maybe he was the sort to not care about her past situation and had only been speaking to the others to find out what was going on. Maybe he just wasn't the sort to judge. There were humans out there that did that. She didn't know the man well enough to tell, though.

"So you say," she said, in the most neutral tone she could muster. "How are you getting along over there? Manage to find the treaties?"

"We haven't yet. As a matter of fact we've come to a dead end. We..." he hesitated a second before continuing, "need your assistance."

Kallian arched an eyebrow, "What? Four strong backs and it's still not enough?"

"Well it isn't strong backs that we need right now."

She said nothing in return and kept her eyebrow arched as she waited for further explanation. Her silence apparently made him a little nervous and he continued with an unsure smile.

"We have a way open, but," he motioned a hand back in the direction he came from, "we can't get the hole any wider than it is. Daveth tried to get himself in there and almost got stuck in the process."

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. She already knew what it was he was going to ask.

"Would you be willing to help? See if you could possibly get in there?" He quickly pressed on before she could say anything. "We do need to make the effort, at the very least. I would hate to go back to Duncan without really and truly trying. Especially not on a task this simple."

Sighing through her nose, Kallian stared at Alistair feeling a little disappointed. For a hopeful second she thought he was there to just keep her company on watch for a while. She was open to the idea that he was possibly different than the rest of them. Instead, he was sent there by the others to ask her to do some work that they couldn't do. Maybe they figured that she wouldn't rock the boat with him because he was a full fledged Grey Warden. A part of her wanted to prove them wrong, but at the same time she wasn't going to spit on his politeness.

Before she could say anything though, the raven took off from its perch, cawing as it flew off. They both watched as it flapped away and then dipped out of sight.

"Seems your friend didn't want to wait around to talk," the amused smile returned to Alistair's face.

Kallian sniffed and grunted, "Was a one sided conversation anyway."

That drew a short laugh from the man. Somehow, it made Kallian feel a little bit better about things. She started walking to where the others were.

"Right, let's see if I can get into this hole you're talking about."

Alistair quickly followed, "So you'll help?"

She shrugged a shoulder idly, "I'm here for this task too, y'know. Sooner in, sooner out, sooner back. Don't want to be out here all day talking to the birds."

* * *

When Alistair returned with Kallian in front of him, Aedan felt some hope. They were right to send Alistair, the one she seemed to be glaring at the least, and whatever words he used seemed to do the trick. Honey apparently did work better than vinegar. Kallian approached, looking all business, and only spared the rest of them a brief glance.

"So where's this hole you're talkin' about?" she removed her cloak as she spoke, indicating her willingness to do what they were requesting.

"Up here," Jory pointed to the opening they managed to make. "We tried moving this large slab of rock several times to no avail. This is as wide as we can manage to get it."

She climbed up on the rubble and then crouched in order to see into the entrance better.

While the others watched on, Aedan glanced at them and got the oddest sense. It was as if she was the ranking soldier here and the rest of them were nervously waiting for her assessment of their work. They'd either get a "good job, men" or she'd berate them for being idiots and point out six different ways they could have done it better. Something told him that she'd call them all idiots regardless of the situation.

No such repercussions happened, though. She grunted once as she straightened, then handed her cloak to Jory, "I'm gonna need one of them torches."

Jory took the cloak without her having to ask. Either he was just being a gentleman, he didn't want to irk her for any reason, or he was indeed treating her as if she were leader of their group. Kallian started removing anything that could potentially snag through the opening.

"If you manage to make it in there," Alistair stepped up, torch still in hand, "you'll be looking for a chest of some sort. It will probably have a griffon motif of some kind. Hopefully it will be small enough for you to carry back out. If it isn't and it's still sealed, then- ..."

"Then I'll figure out a way to open it," she stated as a matter-of-fact. She kept handing her things over to Jory.

"Uh... heh," Alistair smiled at her nervously. "Unless you happen to be a full Grey Warden then that really isn't possible."

"Ain't met a chest or door I never been able to open before," she grabbed the torch from him and before Alistair could protest further she ducked into the hole and crawled her way in.

She didn't get stuck in the same spot Daveth had, her slimmer frame cleared the sides just fine. After a moment, Alistair breathed out a sigh and rubbed the back of his head.

"She doesn't happen to secretly be a mage, is she?" he asked, looking at Aedan.

"No," he arched his eyebrow, finding the question to be odd. "Why? Would it bother you if she was?"

"No, but she'd have to be an extremely good mage to break that magic seal, provided it was even possible." Alistair added with a mutter, "That and I just like to know what my chances are of being turned into a frog is at any given moment."

"Pretty sure we'd all be eating flies and sitting on lily pads right now if that were the case," Daveth quipped. "She's capable of doing much worse to us if we're not careful."

Again, Aedan had the feeling that whatever it was that Kallian had told him had scared Daveth more than he was willing to admit. He'd seen it in the few times he watched Daveth look at her. The temptation to ask him about it rose again, but Aedan wasn't going to force the man to break what he said was a promise to her.

"Well frankly I think it's a good sign she is willing to do this with not so much as a complaint," Jory said while carefully shifting Kallian's things in his arms to get a better hold of it. "We should be thankful to her when she returns."

"Says the chief complainer of us all," Daveth grumbled at him. "I didn't hear you volunteering to stick your thick head into that hole."

"I beg your pardon?" Jory began to bristle.

"Gentlemen, please," Aedan put a hand on Daveth's shoulder and looked at Jory. "Let's not lose our tempers here. That won't do us any good. Alistair, one of us should get back on lookout. Last thing we need is for the darkspawn to attack while Kallian is still underground."

"We're not of any danger of that right now," Alistair said confidently, "but that doesn't mean there aren't other things that can creep up on us. I'll take watch."

Daveth grumbled more while Alistair got himself up on the rise, "Let's just hope she doesn't take that long. This chill has got me too edgy."

* * *

The minutes were stretching on a little too long for Aedan's liking. He had gotten to pacing, his eyes occasionally drifting to the hole waiting for some sign of Kallian to reappear. Just as worry was about to fully set in, shifting noises came from the entrance and dirt started to spill out. It wasn't Kallian's head that came out, however, but a carved ornate wooden box.

"Oy! Out there! Grab it!"

Kallian's voice got them to moving and Aedan grabbed the rectangular box. It indeed had a griffon motif with a metal seal on the side and it looked big enough to carry several scrolls. The seal was flopping back and forth and didn't look like it was keeping the box closed anymore. Had she really managed to open it?

She popped out next, looking a little disheveled with dirt on her face and cobwebs in her hair. She looked uninjured, though.

"Good news," she said getting herself upright, "I found the chest. Bad news, looks like it's already been plundered."

"You've got to be joking," Alistair apparently heard the commotion and came down from his lookout. "You certain this is it?"

"There's nothing else down there," Kallian started to dust herself off. "That place was raided a long time ago. Surprised that chest was even left for us to find."

Aedan held the box while Alistair opened it. Sure enough it was empty and bare as a box could possibly be.

"It doesn't make any sense," Alistair frowned while fingering the seal. "Only a Grey Warden should have been able to-.."

"Well, well, what have we here?"

* * *

_Next chapter - Meeting the Magpie _


	15. Meeting the Magpie

**Part 15**

Meeting The Magpie

"Well, well, what have we here?"

The female voice that cut in was not Kallian's. It came from the very spot Alistair had been keeping watch at just a moment before.

The woman who appeared wasn't like anything or anyone Aedan had ever seen before. She was svelte with black hair swept up into a bun. Her skin was pale, but not unhealthy, and a good deal of it was on display. The tattered skirt and leggings she wore covered her from the waist down, but very little was left to the imagination up top. A burgundy coif draped about her neck and shoulders and hung low about her middle. It teased and tantalized the flesh underneath and drew one's eye right to it. In her hand was a walking staff that could have easily doubled as a weapon. She looked wild, savage, exotic . . . dangerous.

Aedan was uncertain of what to make of her. She was beautiful, there was no mistaking that, but her sudden appearance had him immediately wary. Not to mention she'd nary made a sound before she spoke, regardless of the amount of necklaces and beads she wore about her neck.

"Are you a vulture, I wonder?" The woman stepped down the incline with the swagger of one confident in both her skills and looks. "A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?"

Her pale amber eyes narrowed and Aedan found himself transfixed. Her appearance had him stunned in more ways than one.

"What say you, hmm?" Her harsh intonation broke him of his stupor. "Scavenger or intruder?"

The others seemed similarly shocked. When no one else spoke, Aedan found his voice.

"We're neither. We've come here in search of something that belongs to the Grey Wardens. We've been told that their archive is here."

"Then you do dig for some sort of remains." She walked slowly in a large half-circle, keeping her eyes on them. "Sounds like scavenger work to me. Do the Grey Wardens even know you seek a relic of theirs?"

"We are Grey Wardens." Alistair came up to stand next to Aedan as he spoke. "This tower belonged to our order. We are here by rights."

She stopped and motioned a hand above her, indicating the sky and the lack of any ceiling or building. "'Tis a tower no longer. Any rights here have long since been dissolved by nature."

Alistair bristled at that, but Aedan interrupted, "Just where did you come from? There are no villages nearby here that we're aware of."

"And you are familiar enough with this place that you know all the villagers and its inhabitants?" Her head tilted slightly, seemingly amused at the thought. "I doubt that."

She strode boldly toward them. Aedan held back on the urge to draw his blade. They ended up parting to allow her to pass, but she stopped to look up at Aedan. She seemed to be examining him and there was the tiniest smirk upon her lips.

Aedan felt a sudden stirring in his gut. There was no denying her attractiveness and a tiny part of him entertained the thought of what a night with her might be like. It was greatly overruled by the notion that the staff she carried would probably get shoved into a most uncomfortable spot on his body before that would ever happen. He quickly told his idiot libido to check itself at the door. Now was not the time.

The smirk disappeared as she continued to walk past them. "You are the strangers here, not I. 'Tis best I ask again. What item do you seek that has you digging into the dirt like moles?"

"Don't answer her," Alistair spoke in a quiet tone to Aedan. "She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby."

"Oh?" The woman stopped and turned to look at Alistair. With a sudden step forward she raised her arms as if to suddenly pounce upon him, but she stopped short of actually doing so. "You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

Alistair ended up flinching at her sudden movement and gritted his teeth afterward in irritation. "Yes, swooping _is_ bad."

She laughed in amusement. "Do I really appear a stalking predator ready to leap upon her find? There is no need to fear me. Are you all always so mistrustful?"

"Well, got to admit it's a tad suspicious," Kallian said. She stepped over slowly, her hands busy with getting her belts adjusted.

"'Suspicious? How so?" She didn't seem offended.

Kallian came to a stop stepping in front of Aedan and Alistair to address her. "I mean, here you are, a lone woman who doesn't appear to be armed or armored. You're walking about in - as you said - darkspawn filled wilds with no accompaniment. A wiser head is gonna think that if they see one wolf about then others have got to be lurkin' close by. We're not being mistrustful, we're being cautious. After all, most of what we've come across has either tried to kills us or eat us. So pardon if we come across as a little leery."

There was a calmness to Kallian that was countering the woman's bravado. Even though her weapons were back on, she stood in a relaxed manner with her hands on her hips and spoke in a casually. Aedan wasn't certain what she thought to prove by this, but for now he'd let her do the talking.

"Now you seem like a far more reasonable person to talk to." The woman's smile widened. "You are quite correct. The darkspawn presence has made even the calmest of creatures more agitated than normal. Far-too-hungry wolves would indeed be something to be leery of. 'Tis forgivable, I suppose."

Daveth suddenly came up to Kallian's side. There was a paleness to his face, and he spoke in a nervous tone. "You shouldn't be talking to her. She's a Witch of the Wilds, she is. She'll turn us into toads."

"Witch of the Wilds." The woman chuckled. "Such idle fancies. Things born of story and myth and you take it for truth?"

"Is that the one where witches in forests steal away babies?" Kallian apparently was not phased. "Or lure virgins away to be sacrificed to a demon . . . or is it dragons? I always get those stories mixed up."

"It's no joke! I grew up on stories of the Witch of the Wilds."

"So did I," Kallian shot back. "I also grew up on stories about there being giant rats near the city sewage drains big enough to kill a dog, but you don't see me balking at every rat we come across."

"Little boys tend to frighten too easily, it seems." The woman looked at Kallian with great interest. "Come, let us be civilized. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

"The name's Kallian. Kallian Tabris." She dipped her head in a slight bow. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Now that is a proper civil greeting. You may call me Morrigan."

Daveth fired a look at Aedan, almost begging him to step in or stop the conversation. A tiny shake of his head was his answer. So far this Morrigan seemed to be taking to Kallian. Not only that, but the longer they talked, the more it gave Aedan the chance to decide for himself if this was just a distraction or if the witch really was out here on her own.

Kallian kept it pleasant. "Morrigan it is, then. I mean no offense, but are you a Witch of the Wilds? The sort that can use magic? If you are then that explains a lot on how you can be out here on your own."

Aedan felt his breath seize up. How, by the Maker, can she just blurt out a question like that? If this Morrigan was a mage then . . . Well, it certainly explained her sole appearance, but . . .

His eyes flit briefly to Alistair and he could see his jaw visibly clenching.

_Templar meet apostate. Apostate meet templar._

"Some call us witches, yes." Morrigan fixed her gaze briefly on Daveth. "But purely out of superstition."

The confirmation was enough to get Alistair talking. "You know what the Circle of Magi is, don't you? The Circle requires an accounting of all mages. That is the law of the land and the Chantry."

"If you wish to tell your Chantry about me, go ahead. I have nothing to fear from _priests_."

Aedan put a hand on Alistair's wrist as he saw him start to reach for his blade. Another small shake of his head and Alistair eased off on his intentions. While Morrigan could still potentially be a danger, she had yet to attack them with anything more than words. He looked to Kallian who was looking back at them from out of the corner of her eye. There was a tiny single nod of her head before she turned to the witch once more. Apparently, she also didn't see a need for blades here.

"You've got nothing to fear from us either. As he said, we're not intruders or scavengers." Kallian motioned a hand to the ruins they'd been digging into. "But we are looking for something. Scrolls. Grey Warden treaties to be specific."

"And naturally your search has turned up nothing."

"You got it in one. I take it you know this area really well?"

"As well as one who owns them should."

"Then could you help us? Maybe you can suggest another place we might try to find them?"

Morrigan crossed her arms with a knowing smile. "I can do even better than that. I know exactly where they are."

"You do? Well that's- . . . "

"You know where they are because you stole them!" Alistair apparently was having a hard time constraining himself. "You're some kind of . . . sneaky . . . witch thief!"

Aedan's lip twitched at Alistair's fumbling choice of words. "Alistair, I seriously doubt that even if she was a thief she wouldn't come back here just to gloat about it."

"Why not? She seems to be gloating about everything else."

"Sers, please." Kallian turned to them. "Let's not start tossing aimless accusations around. No reason to call someone a thief or . . . say . . . a murderer without valid reason."

Aedan's eyebrow arched slightly at the way she phrased it. "No one is calling anyone murderer here."

"Kallian, you have to admit her appearance is far too convenient." Alistair nudged his head in Morrigan's direction. "Just how does she know where the scrolls are without having taken them herself?"

"I did not take them, but I know who did." Morrigan's lips curled downward as she regarded Alistair. "Do you care for me to show you where they are or not?"

"We don't-"

"Yes," Kallian said, interrupting Alistiar before he could say more. She set him with a stare that stilled any further objections. "Yes, we would very much like it for you to show us where the treaties are. Will we have to fight to get them back?"

"Not unless you bring a fight with you, no. You will simply need to ask."

"Oh good! That sounds simple. Is it far?"

"'Tis not far from here at all. You can have your treaties and be back from where you came from well before sunset."

"Lead on, then."

"Wait," Aedan said, "can we talk a little bit more about this first?"

"What's to talk about?" Kallian shrugged a shoulder. "We need the treaties, she knows who's got 'em. Simple, roit?"

"She could be leading us into a trap, you know."

"So, whot, are we supposed ta keep diggin' and sendin' me inta more holes? I'd rather not keep workin' at a futile attempt and I'd rather not get more cobwebs stuck in my hair." She ran her fingers through her black locks and a wisp of spider web came off. "You lot can stay here if ya want and keep shovelin'. I'm followin' her."

"This way, then, if it pleases you." Morrigan left and Kallian followed suit.

Aedan's lips pinched into a frown. Morrigan's appearance _was_ too convenient and Kallian was being far too careless. Her interjection of the word "murderer" had him wondering and slowly connecting dots in his head, but there wasn't enough time to ponder further. It was evident that Kallian's overall anger was leading her to this quick decision and he hesitated to go into what very well could be an ambush. He had guessed the others to be of a like-minded thought, so it was a surprise when he saw Jory pick up his things and head after them.

"Oy, you can't be serious," Daveth said. "She'll stick you in the pot, she will. Just you watch."

"If the pot is warmer than this forest then it'd be a nice change." Jory paused to adjust his cloak and look at them. "Kallian is right. Our duty is to get those treaties. If they are not here, then they are elsewhere. This is the only lead we have."

"And if it happens to be a trap?"

"A supposed 'witch' and some Chasind barbarians scare me not. If you are really that concerned then I suggest you follow." Jory began to walk. "The more blades the better."

Daveth shook his head after Jory disappeared into the marsh grass. "Never thought I'd see Jory and Kallian agreeing on something."

"Maybe it's a sign that we should follow this . . . Morrigan." Alistair looked at Aedan. "I don't like this one bit, but . . ."

Aedan sighed and finished for him. "Wouldn't want Kallian or Jory following on their own without help. I also have a feeling that it would be futile to keep trying to dig here. Let's keep our eyes and ears open, though. I don't want to end up in the pot or on the end of a Chasind spear."


End file.
